


Cattyk8's Promptober 2018 Ficlets

by cattyk8



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 37,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattyk8/pseuds/cattyk8
Summary: A collection of ficlets inspired by AdorkableAuthor’s Veronica Mars Promptober Festival 2018—31 days, 31 prompts for the month of October!Note: The fics published here will be a mix of straight-up Veronica Mars fics and sneak peeks/outtakes from my Veronica Mars & the Justice League crossover AU.





	1. Flashlight (Justice League XO)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [AdorkableAuthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorkableAuthor/) for organizing this challenge! And for being so patient with noobs like me. Check out the [Veronica Mars Promptober Festival 2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/VMars_Promptober_Festival_2018) collection for the stuff written for the same prompts by a bunch of amazing authors and VM fans.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superman introduces Veronica Mars to the Green Lantern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm currently knee-deep in writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, you'll probably be seeing a few ficlets/scenes from this universe pop up throughout the month—most of which will be outtakes and previews from upcoming installments. You don’t need to have read the only story published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read these. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know about this series: Veronica’s been trained to kick butt by the League of Shadows. She works with Bruce Wayne and on her own as a top investigator by day and with Batman as a masked vigilante by night. 
> 
> This scene takes place about four years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham,” around the time the Justice League is formed. Bruce Wayne is Batman, but he also maintains the cover story that he funds Batman, as an added layer of secrecy around his identity, which most of the Justice League do not know at this point. Veronica and Logan are exes-turned-friends-with-promises-of-more right now; he’s a fighter pilot in the US navy as per movie canon, but otherwise, in VM canon, this deviates after Season 3.

Veronica Mars smirks as she looks the uniform-clad space cop up and down. “Batman wasn’t kidding when he said that ring of yours is like a flashlight.”

“I believe ‘glow stick’ was the term Spooky used when we first met,” the Green Lantern says, not a little grumpy at the reminder. “Who are you, anyway?”

Superman clears his throat. “Lantern, this is Veronica Mars. She’s an amazing investigator who’ll be helping us with some of our intel gathering.”

The Green Lantern narrows his eyes at the tiny blond. “Cop?”

“Private investigator.”

His lip curls in disdain. “You think spending a year or two taking pictures of cheating husbands qualifies you to work with the Justice League?”

Veronica just raises an eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”

“I dunno. You don’t look legal and you’re like five foot nothing, but if you’re a licensed PI, I guess you have to be.”

She grins. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment, then. But just FYI, I’ve been licensed for seven years, but I helped my dad out before then. I’ve been investigating crimes since I was seventeen, solved my first murder before I turned eighteen. If you need caped references for my investigative skills, I can direct you to Big Blue over here, the Bat, and Iron Man. I’ve been working cases with them for years.”

“She really is great,” Superman says. “I first met her about four years ago, when she came back to the US after an investigation led to her being held hostage alongside Bruce Wayne, but I’d read about some of the murders she helped solve even before then. She’s helped me out a lot—both in my civvies and as Superman.”

“Thanks, Supey.” Veronica pats the large alien on the arm fondly before turning back to the Green Lantern. “In the interest of transparency, I’ll tell you that I’ve done some work as a cape, mostly in Gotham, working in conjunction with Batman, but it’s been decided that I’d be a greater asset to the Justice League in my civilian identity.”

“How come?”

“I’m actually better known and better connected as Veronica Mars, private investigator, than I am as a masked vigilante, and the League needs someone who can show ID when we need to reach out to government agencies and, heck, suppliers for the Watchtower. Also, I’ll be helping J’onn and Batman with some of the admin and personnel work.”

“Okay, I get that,” Green Lantern says. “And I’m also getting that meeting you is pretty much a formality.”

Superman rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, we weren’t going to mention it unless anyone really objected, but, yeah. I’ve worked with her longer than any of you guys, even longer than I’ve worked with Batman. And the level of Batman’s involvement with the Justice League is contingent on hers.”

“Would’ve been nice to know that before I signed up to this dog and pony show, seeing as Batman’s the guy who gave us the Watchtower to begin with.”

Veronica frowns. “Actually, that’s just because the Justice League and the Bat have the same sponsor. Even if Batman and I are not part of the League, you won’t lose your funding.”

The Green Lantern shrugs. “Well, I guess if everyone’s fine with it, then I am too. Wait—how come you know all of this about the Justice League?”

She shrugs. “It was an idea the Bat and Superman and I were spit balling before the whole alien invasion thing.” She pauses. “In the interest of transparency, I should tell you that I know the identity of every hero in the League, as well as most of the active capes nationwide.”

“Are you serious?!”

Veronica grins. “You’re not the only aviator in my life right now, Hal. Although my friend—”

Superman starts to cough unconvincingly. “Boyfriend,” he hacks out between coughs.

Veronica glares at the Man of Steel. “My friend is in the navy, and I know you used to be air force.”

“How do I know you’re not gonna tell anyone who I am? I have friends, coworkers—”

“Who could be in danger if people knew Hal Jordan was the Green Lantern for this sector? Yeah, where have I heard that before?”

“She’s known who I am for years and has kept my secret well enough.” Superman smiles. “It’s been pretty… liberating, actually. And she knows who Batman is under the cowl.”

“I didn’t even know you had a secret identity.”

Veronica smirks at them. “To be fair, Superman has a terrible disguise as a civilian. Seriously, it’s embarrassing.”

Superman smirks back. “Well, Green Arrow hasn’t seen through it, and neither have most of the people I’ve interacted with.”

“Batman did, the moment he saw your picture.”

“Well, he is the world’s greatest detective, isn’t he?”

“It could be argued that the title belongs to a Brit by the name of Sherlock Holmes. I’ve met him. He’s pretty impressive. He impressed the Bat, too.”

Superman looks thoughtful. “That’s saying a lot, actually. I’m pretty sure I’ve never managed to impress the Bat. At best, he’s called my work ‘adequate.’”

Veronica grins. “But that’s like getting gold stars and a pat on the head from other people! And you do blind him with the sunshiney goodness of your personality from time to time. I’m pretty sure he’s only impressed by my ability to attack villains with the power of sarcasm not get killed.”

“It’s not just that they don’t kill you. It’s that they actually like you snarking at them.” The Last Son of Krypton shakes his head. “I mean, seriously. You told Lex Luthor to stop being such a ‘drama queen Daddy Warbucks’ and he still invites you to his parties and fawns over you. Even Darkseid wanted to keep you for a pet or something. It’s got to be some kind of super power.”

“Then aren’t you glad I only use my powers for good?” She beams. “Speaking of which, Lantern, I’m up to date on the powers of your ring, but what about the more practical stuff you bring to the table?”

“Huh?” The Green Lantern has been fascinated by the banter between the world’s strongest hero and the woman who may be the world’s tiniest detective, so he’s surprised when the conversation turns back to him.

Veronica gestures to the ring on his hand. “I know that’s more than a flashlight or a bauble. From what Batman and I can tell, it’s a power ring that harnesses willpower and can be used for energy projection, force field generation, and energy construct creation. It also enables your flight, augments your strength, and serves as a kind of scanner and translator, with access to some kind of galactic database.”

“That’s… uh… pretty comprehensive.”

“I aim to please. So apart from doing the Lantern thing and fly planes, what else can you do?”

“I’m an aeronautical engineer, so pretty much whatever you need that involves planes, I guess.”

“Cool. I’m scheduling everyone for training on piloting the new Javelin, but if it suits you, I think I’ll recommend you for training and maintenance duties beyond that. It’ll occasionally get you out of monitor duty, and trust me, that’s a good thing.”

“Hold on. Javelin? What’s that?”

“It’s the single-stage-to-orbit jet our sponsor has helped us negotiate a deal with. Makes the Batplane look like a single prop.”

The Green Lantern gapes at her. “SSTO? Are you freaking kidding me? That’s still theoretical for Earth technology.”

She smiles, sharp and bright. “Not anymore. We’ve got a deal with Wayne Enterprises and Stark Industries to test their new prototype, code named Javelin. It’s a win-win situation as most of the people who’ll be using it regularly aren’t as vulnerable should there be any malfunctions. Your flashlight-turned-force-field should come in handy.”

“Gee thanks, so glad my ability to not die in a plane crash qualifies me to play test pilot.”

“That would be more effective if you weren’t already a test pilot in your civilian identity. Also if Batman and I had not qualified for it three months ago.”

“You’re not shitting me? It’s seriously single-stage-to-orbit?”

“Yes, and it uses Stark’s ARC reactor technology, so it’s fuel-efficient.”

“Hot damn!” Pure lust tinges his voice.

She tilts her head. “I assume by that shit-eating grin on your face, that you’re a go for joining the first batch of trainees for it? Flash, the Martian Manhunter, and Aquaman weren’t too keen to go in the first batch, but Wonder Woman and Superman are a go. So, you got the balls for this, flyboy?”

“Oh, baby, it’s on like Donkey Kong.”

Veronica grins widely. “Lantern, I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“You know what, Veronica Mars? You might just be right about that.”


	2. Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is desperate. His life is on the line. He’s not about to be defeated by a “closed” sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! No crossovers! Which is not my natural state as a fanfic writer. Here's a fluff ficlet for today.

Logan channeled his inner Tom Cruise and put the pedal to the metal as he approached the tiny building that would offer him salvation from the wrath of Veronica Mars. Mission: Impossible? Bring it on.

He screeched to a stop in the parking lot, jumped out of his beloved BMW M6 convertible like the seats were on fire, and sprinted for the doors. Only to groan when he found them locked, the cheerful sign flipped to “closed.”

But hope was not lost. Some of the lights were still on, and he was positive he spotted movement in the back. He took a breath and pounded a fist to the cool glass door. “Open up! Please!”

“We’re closed!” someone yelled from inside.

“I know, but it’s an emergency!” Logan yelled back.

Finally a woman who looked like she was still in college stomped over to the door. Her expression sour, her voice positively acidic, when she said, “What possible emergency could you have that requires me to open the door?”

“My wife, she’s, uh, pregnant. Like, really, really, really, seriously pregnant. Please, you gotta help me. I’ve got money. I’ll pay you, just open up for ten freaking minutes.”

Logan was not above begging if it meant saving his hide, not when times were desperate, like they were now. The woman crossed her arms, pursed her lips, and stared at him for a long moment. He put everything he had into channeling Pony’s puppy-dog eyes.

Finally, she let out a huff of amusement. “Fine,” she said, pulling out a set of keys and unlocking the door. “What do you need?”

Logan wanted to get down on his knees and genuflect. He wanted to grab her, spin her in circles, and kiss her. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t do that. Instead he grinned like a maniac. “I need a gallon of mint chocolate chip, a pint of maple and candied bacon, a pint of peanut butter and banana, and a pint of Brie and dark cherry ice cream, please.”

“Wow. You weren’t kidding about the ‘seriously pregnant’ part.”

“Does this look like the face of a kidder?” He made a circling motion with his finger—a gesture he’d picked up from Veronica.

“Heh. Guess not. That’ll be $95.” She handed him a bag with the containers of ice cream.

“Here.” He pulled out his wallet, handed her $150. “The rest is for you. You’re a lifesaver, I swear.”

She grinned. “Thank you, kind sir. And don’t worry about it. My sister had the late-night cravings when she was preggo too. You’re just lucky I was still here.”

“I’m thanking the ice cream gods, believe me. Or the gods of pregnant people. Or whatever.”

“How far along is she?”

“Twenty-nine weeks.”

She pursed her lips. “That’s not really, really, seriously pregnant. Wait til she’s at 38 weeks.”

“It’s really, really, seriously pregnant when it’s twins. It’s always gonna be really, really, seriously pregnant when it’s twins. If you knew my wife, you’d know why. And 38 weeks? That’s gonna be apocalyptic.”

She laughed outright. “Well, then, off with you before the ice cream melts. And good luck with the wife!”

“Thanks. Really, thanks loads.” Logan backed out of the store, got back into his car.

Ten minutes later he was pulling into the driveway of the beach front home he and Veronica had bought when they’d first decided to try for a baby.

“Honey, I’m home, and I’ve got ice cream!” he announced, hurrying into the kitchen to grab four spoons and some bowls for her to use. She’d developed a strange aversion to using the same spoons and bowls for different flavors.

“What kind?”

“All the kinds you asked me to get.”

“Oh thank god.”

He found her on the couch in the living room, and he started setting out the ice cream on the coffee table. “Mint chocolate chip’s your staple, so I got you a big tub of that. Then I got pints of the rest. Maple and candied bacon, peanut butter and banana, and Brie and dark cherry, like you asked.”

“Logan.”

“Here, I got you four different spoons and bowls.”

“Logan.”

“Yeah? What? Did I miss something?”

“Chocolate sauce?”

“I think we’ve got some in the kitchen. Let me go check.”

There wasn’t. Or rather, there was, but the bottle was distressingly light. It made a sad noise when Veronica squeezed out the last bit of it onto her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Oh Jesus, were those tears in her eyes?

“Logan.”

Frak, that was a chin wobble.

Logan was already reaching for his keys. “I’ll go grab some more,” he said, and sprinted back to his car.

_Sac-N-Pack_ , he thought desperately as his tires squealed out of the driveway, remembering the store was open 24 hours. _Please, god, let there be chocolate sauce at the Sac-N-Pack._


	3. Demonstration (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lt. Logan Echolls is all gung ho to learn how to pilot the most advanced jet the US Armed Forces has ever commissioned. But day 1 of training brings a wholly unexpected revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman. 
> 
> This scene takes place about four or five years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” Veronica and Logan are exes-turned-friends, but basically the whole Justice League ships them, including Hal Jordan AKA the Green Lantern. Logan’s a fighter pilot in the US navy as per movie canon, but otherwise, in VM canon, this deviates after Season 3.
> 
> On another note, I am very, very grateful to [Heavenli24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenli24/) for letting me consult on some navy life questions!

Lieutenant Logan Echolls, hotshot aviator for the US Navy, is excited. Heck, if he hasn’t had a little over five years of USAF discipline keeping his spine straight, his eyes forward, and his pace brisk and economical—snappy is the word—he would be incapable of walking straight for all the twirls and skip-hops he’d be doing.

He is one of only a handful of pilots from the navy and air force selected to join the first batch of trainees for the new S-816 planes commissioned by the United States Armed Forces from a joint project by Wayne Enterprises and Queen Consolidated, and today is the first day of a twelve-week highly intensive training course.

The acquisition of the aircraft has been all the navy and air force flyboys have been talking about over the past few months, the gossip made all the juicier by the fact that most of the planes’ specs have been kept at the highest clearance level. Logan has only heard three things about the plane he will be learning to fly, but even those three are enough to leave him drooling.

The first thing he’s heard is that the plane is capable of true stealth mode, thanks to holographic technology developed from the same science behind Wonder Woman’s invisible jet. The second is that the plane isn’t just supersonic—it’s hypersonic. And the third thing, which is really the part that has him ready to piss his pants in excitement, is that it is a single-stage-to-orbit aircraft, meaning it can go from runway to freaking outer space on its own power, without the need for jettisoning hardware.

The only other planes currently capable of this kind of flight are the ones flown by the Justice League—the various Batplanes, Wonder Woman’s jet, and of course, the Javelin. Ever since learning Veronica’s been working with the League since its founding a year before, he’s been hard-pressed not to beg her to let him catch a ride on the Javelin on his next shore leave.

Logan joins the group of pilots waiting on their training instructors. There are a dozen pilots from the air force and about half that number from the navy. He’s one of the youngest present, and while he recognizes several of the naval aviators, they are all senior to him. He salutes them each in turn with all the proper respect.

It isn’t long before they are falling into formation outside the appointed hangar shortly before the arrival of their trainers, a group of ten former military pilots now employed or contracted by Wayne Enterprises and Queen Consolidated. At the head of the group of trainers is a well-built pilot Logan recognizes by reputation—Harold “Hal” Jordan, a legend in the US Air Force even though it’s been over a decade since he was honorably discharged. He’s rumored to be a close friend of Oliver Queen’s, which could be why he’s in charge of the S-816 project.

“All right, all right, let’s get this party started!” Jordan says cheerfully as he nears. He returns the salutes of the pilots, then grins at them. “Guess you all are looking forward to seeing the sweet set of wings you guys’ll be flying—if you pass qualifications.”

Jordan nods to one of the other trainers, who hits a remote control so the hangar doors start to slide open. Sitting inside is one of the most beautiful sights Logan has ever had the pleasure to behold. Sleek and sexy, the S-816 looks almost too delicate for the capabilities it’s rumored to have, despite being five times the size of the fighter jet Logan’s used to handling. For a moment, Logan considers that his intel about the plane’s features must be wrong. No way something that compact is capable of launching itself into orbit.

“This, ladies—okay, lady—and gents, is the S-816 single-stage-to-orbit aircraft codenamed Broadhead by the folks at Wayne Enterprises and Queen Consolidated. Isn’t she a beauty?” Jordan beams, as if showing off a wife or a girlfriend. “She’s a ten-seater hypersonic aircraft designed for quick response and short take-off and landing. She handles beautifully in low-orbital and atmospheric levels, and she uses about 40 percent less fuel than an F-22 Raptor. The only place you’ll see better is in the Justice League’s docking bay.”

Logan is goggling. The plane takes passengers?

“Now, I’m not gonna bore you—or maybe give you a nerdgasm—with the details just now since I managed to finagle one of our best pilots, after myself, of course, into giving you guys a demonstration and putting the Broad through her paces. So if you’d all like to hop onto the benches here, we’ve got a couple of planes ready to boogie. I think we’ve got enough to put a trainer on each bench with two trainees, so let me call out assignments.”

The pilots file eagerly onto the benches as their names are called, and from a neighboring hangars, another S-816 rolls out. Logan’s so engrossed watching the plane ease onto the tarmac that he almost doesn’t hear the odd note in Jordan’s voice when he calls his name.

“Lieutenant Logan Echolls?” Brow furrowed, Jordan searches the faces of the pilots who remain standing.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Logan Echolls? Out of California?”

Inwardly, Logan groans, convinced Jordan has recognized him from the tabloids. Worse, that Jordan might recognize him because of who his dad was—Aaron Echolls, A-list actor and B-list murderer. But he answers “Sir, yes, sir!” all the same.

Jordan grins widely. “Well, then, this is gonna be one hell of a treat for you.”

“Sir?”

“Ah, nothing, nothing. All will be revealed in due time. You and Captain Steven Hiller here can sit with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the pilots are settled, Jordan taps an in-ear communicator. “All set, short stack? Start me off with the basics, you know, pitchbacks, barrel rolls, Split Ses, the works. Then I want you to flash me, baby.” He pauses, listening to the pilot, then laughs. “You think you can match me? The other day I did a Kulbit on the Broad.” He pauses again. “Yeah, yeah, talk’s cheap, blondie. Show me what you’ve got, and dinner’s on me tonight. Or, more accurately, on Queen and Wayne. The boys have cleared you for takeoff.”

Logan is slightly appalled by the lack of professionalism Jordan’s displaying. He’s also slightly disturbed by the manic grin Jordan beams his way while he talks to the pilot.

The Broadhead runs through startup sequence, and Logan is relieved to see the pilot go through the proper procedures for a demo. The jet taxis onto the runway. When it gets the green light to take off, it all but slingshots upward. For the next several minutes, the pilot runs through all the basic air maneuvers, as per Jordan’s instructions. Logan is enthralled. It’s beautiful.

Then Jordan taps his coms again. “How’s the ride, snarkmeister?” He listens for a bit, then grins. “All righty then. Take the Broad up, up and away for a sub-orbital, then come back and show off a little.”

The plane accelerates drastically before the nose goes up and it climbs higher and higher until it’s out of sight. Out of atmosphere, Logan realizes, thrilled despite himself. They have a couple of minutes of searching the skies for the Broad’s reentry.

Then Logan suppresses a gasp as it plunges back into the atmosphere, nose down at what looks to be a 90-degree angle or close to it. He has a second to think that this is all part of the plan, but Jordan is standing and cussing and yelling at the pilot.

“Pull up, pull-up, you mother-frakking idiot! You’re not going to leave me explaining to Wayne and Queen why I let their golden girl go splat on a freaking demo!”

The Broadhead continues to plummet downward in a stall, and Logan is absolutely sure no one is breathing and everyone is convinced they’re about to see plane and pilot crash into the ground before their eyes. Then just a few hundred meters from the ground, the engines fire, and the pilot pulls the plane into a roll that should not be possible, given the laws of physics, before coming back round at an insanely low altitude and doing a flyby for the gasping pilots.

“Oh, you vicious, fear mongering bitch,” Jordan says, and while his voice is down to a growl, he is grinning like an idiot.

The plane does a couple of barrel rolls, and then Logan is sucking in his breath as the pilot gets down to business. He—or she, judging from Jordan’s exclamations—executes a series of super maneuvers that really shouldn’t be doable with an aircraft of that size and bulk.

The pilot does a ludicrously slow tail slide, and then proceeds to psych out Jordan by executing the move the trainer had bragged about—the Kulbit, or Somersault, which involves a move known as the Pugachev’s Cobra that then transitions into a back flip. And just as the plane is coming out of its stall, the crazy person in the cockpit does another one. Just for shits and giggles.

Logan is impressed with the pilot’s balls and also appalled by the blatant showboating. Although, he considers, if there’s one place where it’s legitimately okay to showboat while in an airplane, it’s got to be the demo of one of the advanced aeronautic systems in the world.

By the time the S-816 Broadhead has landed and taxied back near their vicinity, the pilots are all on their feet and cheering. The access ramp drops. The pilot deplanes. And Logan’s jaw hits the floor.

Jordan is already rushing forward. “Veronica Mars, you unmitigated bitch! You almost had me peeing my pants. You are so fucking dead the moment Wayne sees the video of this demo.”

“Eh,” Veronica says, waving a dismissive hand. “Brucie will just ask me if I can do the same with the Javelin. Which, duh, of course? My Javi trumps the Broad any day of the week.”

Jordan pouts. “You shouldn’t say mean things about my lady where she can hear.”

Veronica smirks. “It’s a plane, Jordan. Way to anthropomorphize. Plus my demos sold the navy on the Broad when only the air force was gonna bite, given the budget. Gotta live while the living’s easy, ya know? Batman doesn’t let me take the Javelin or the Batplane through her paces like you let me do on the Broad.”

“Yeah, the Bat will never let you take his baby out with the way you drive.”

“He only ever hogs the newest plane.” She sighs a little dreamily. “Can you imagine what I could do with the Javelin or that new Batwing, given their underwater capabilities? And what’s with this BS with using a STOL system on the Broad? Why not go for vertical take-off and landing instead of the hassle of needing a runway? The Broad can’t even hover, for crying out loud.”

Jordan shrugs. “Dunno, probably didn’t wanna pay for the extra.” He pauses, then seems to remember the two dozen pilots—trainers and trainees alike—who are goggling at them. “Come meet the baby pilots! Oh, and boy, have I got a surprise for you!”

But Veronica has already caught sight of Logan standing alongside the navy pilots. She stops dead in her tracks. “Logan?” She gapes for a minute, and Logan basks in the pleasure of having thoroughly surprised Ms. No-Surprises Mars herself.

“Hey, bobcat,” he says before he can stop himself. Inwardly he groans. This is why he earned the call sign “Mouth”—he was always letting his run away with him. But he knows the only thing for it is to plunge onward, so he smirks and says, “That was some flying you did there.”

She grins. “Heya, stranger. Glad you liked it. If I’d known you were watching, I’d have—”

“Hey, quit with the bragging, ninja munchkin!” Jordan says. “Although truth be told, Echolls, your girl’s got balls bigger than Superman’s pecs.”

Veronica snorts. “Now there’s a disturbing image. And by the way, to quote Walt Whitman, ‘If you done it, it ain’t bragging.’ Now go do some trainery stuff or whatever Ollie’s supposed to be paying you to do. I’m gonna catch up with my friend here.” She shoves him toward the crowd of pilots gathered around the Broadhead. "Oh, and Hal? I so totally won our little bet, so you owe both Logan and me dinner."

"Hey, no one said anything about the flyboy!"

"Did I not just make you squeal like a bitch over the coms?" Veronica asks sweetly. When Jordan replies with a one-fingered salute before stomping over to the other pilots, she just laughs. The amusement and leftover adrenaline are still sparkling in her eyes when she turns to Logan. “So, how do you like the Broad?”

Logan shakes his head. “I’m just glad I didn’t know it was you at the controls until you were safely on the ground. Why didn’t you tell me you could fly circles around me? Or, like, virtually every pilot in the world?”

She smirks. “I doubt that. I’m only really qualified for the civilian-friendly stuff like the Broad or the Javelin—I'd have no clue what to do in an F-22 Raptor, for example. You’ll see how easy it is to handle the S-816 once you get into the training. Most of it’s really just getting acquainted with orbital protocols, I think. The flying part, you should pick up after a couple of times at the stick, if not the very first time you take control.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She’s watching his face. “I can tell,” she says, smiling. Then she leans closer. “I’m here a few days, so if you’re off after your training sessions, we should catch up. As long as you don’t get in trouble for fraternizing with the contractors, or whatever.”

He grins. “Definitely. And don’t think I’m not going to pick your brain about the Broadhead. Or the Javelin or Batplane, for that matter.”

She tilts her head at him in that way that has always, always resulted in his capitulation to whatever she asks for. “Tell you what. Come to Gotham next time you’ve got liberty stateside, and I’ll borrow one of the Batplanes. We can do J-turns over the Atlantic.”

He’d have said yes to just dinner. Or coffee, even. But flying the Batplane? No wonder he’s been in love with her for half his life. He smiles, trying not to look as completely schmoopy as he feels. “It’s a date.”


	4. Cashmere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Mars, bittersweet memories, and a pink sweater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still here for my AU yo-yoing? This is a non-crossover ficlet, so no Justice League today.

The week after Shelly Pomroy’s end-of-year party, Veronica exorcised most of the pink from her wardrobe. Anything too aggressively pink went straight into the box she later brought to the Salvation Army. Except for one piece—a ridiculously pink cashmere sweater she’d found in Lilly’s closet one afternoon.

 

* * *

 

“Lilly, can I borrow a sweater?” Veronica had asked. “If we’re heading out to a beach party in February, I’m gonna need something warmer than what I’ve got. You should’ve warned me.”

“Veronica Mars, only you would think I’d invite you to stay over on a Saturday night in order to hang around at home,” Lilly trilled, laughing as she sat at the dresser doing her makeup. “But you know how the saying goes— _mi_ closet _es su_ closet. Go and pick something out.”

“That’s not actually how the saying goes,” Veronica grumbled. But she got up from where she’d been sprawled on Lilly’s bed and went into her friend’s walk-in closet.

“Details, details, who cares about the details, Ronica? And hey, while you’re in there, how about you pick something sexy? You know I keep telling you you’re red satin—”

“And not yellow cotton, I know, I know. I don’t think I’m ready to be red satin just yet, Lil.”

“I’m terrified I'm going to be old and dead by the time you think you are.”

Veronica snorted as she let her hands brush across the soft fabrics in Lilly’s admittedly humongous closet. “Yeah, like that would ever happen.”

Lilly giggled. “I know, right? I, Lilly Kane, will never grow old! I shall remain young and fabulous forever.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “So, what, you’re gonna get a vampire to bite you while you’re in your prime?”

“Why not?” There was a pause, and then Lilly had joined her in the closet. “What’s taking you so long, Ronica?”

“Way too much choice here,” Veronica said, indicating the stack of sweaters.

“How about this one?” Lilly pulled out a v-necked forest green sweater with a little too much V in the neck for Veronica’s comfort. “Or this one?” She pulled out a blue number in a similar style.

“Lilly, I don’t have the boobs to carry that look.” Veronica set both sweaters back.

“Oh, nonsense. You just need to invest in a proper bra that’ll give you the right oomph.” Lilly cupped Veronica’s breasts, and pushed them up and together, the way one of the bras she’d been hounding Veronica to buy would. “See? You could have the cleavage with a little help in the form of under wire.”

Veronica stepped back awkwardly. “Lilly.”

“Fine, fine, pick out something boring. Just not yellow, okay? Not that I own a yellow sweater, because ugh.”

“How about this?” Veronica asked, holding up a candy pink sweater with a kind of navy blue bow attachment on one side, like a silky brooch.

Lilly frowned. “You want to wear that? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but after that, take it home with you. I never want to see it again. It’s waayyy too goody-goody Veronica Mars-ish to be occupying space in my closet.”

Veronica frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Ronica, darling, I love you like a sister, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in that unless I was wearing it ironically with a skirt that barely covered my crotch.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Will you wear it ironically with a micro miniskirt?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not gonna happen. Ever.”

Lilly huffed in frustration. “Skinny jeans, at least? You have to learn to compromise on these things, Ronica.”

“That I can do.”

“Thong?”

“Don’t push it.”

Lilly laughed. “Fine, fine. But you have to promise me that one day, you’ll wear that sweater just like I said you should.”

“Maybe in some alternate universe,” Veronica grumbled, making Lilly giggle again.

She’d been furious when she’d found out later that the sweater, along with several other pieces Lilly had foisted on her, had actually been bought for her. Lilly had always been sneaky that way.

 

* * *

 

A year later, Veronica was convinced she was living in an alternate universe. It was a universe where her boyfriend had dumped her without taking the time to actually dump her before turning into a living zombie, her best friend had been murdered, the whole school had turned against her, and she had no clue who had taken her virginity the night of Shelly Pomroy’s party.

So she donned that aggressively pink sweater that was as soft as clouds, paired it with a black faux leather micro mini skirt and knee-high black boots Lilly would have said were made for ass-kicking.

She finished off the look with a black beret and a fine sense of irony and armed herself with the memory of a lilting trill of a laugh and green eyes that didn’t stop sparkling until the day Veronica had seen them fixed and staring into infinity by the poolside.

Because Lilly Kane had been right—she would remain young and fabulous forever.

And though Veronica wasn’t quite ready to be the red-satin girl her friend had always wanted her to be, she’d learned a little about compromise. And about ironically pairing cashmere sweaters with micro miniskirts and heavy combat boots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you’re wondering, the pink sweater is an homage to Amanda Seyfried’s signature outfit from _Mean Girls_.


	5. Harvest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death comes for Lilly Kane and is unprepared for the sheer fabulousness of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Justice League today. But a mild crossover with Neil Gaiman’s _Sandman_ graphic novels under DC Vertigo, so yes, still DC. You don’t need to know anything about that fandom except that Death is a cute goth chick. And in case you're thinking it, yes, I’m a bit of a crossover addict. Except maybe you can delete “a bit of” from that last sentence.

The ashtray connects with her temple, and it’s game over for the fabulous Lilly Kane. The world moves in slow motion as the blond heiress steps away from Aaron Echolls even as her body falls to the ground. The actor gapes at her prone form, blanches at her fixed, staring eyes, then turns and runs out of the house.

It isn’t long before she hears a squeal of brakes and a roar of the engine that tells her that, for now, her lover has gotten away with murder. _Her_ murder.

And then Death comes to escort her into the great beyond.

Lilly Kane isn’t sure what she was expecting. She is pretty happy not to get some looming Grim Reaper figure, because really, guy with a scythe? Not a pleasant introduction to the afterlife. An angel? _Bo-ring!_ So when she sees the elfin-faced girl in an all-black tank, jeans, and combat boots ensemble with a creepy looking silver ankh necklace and skin as pale as, well, death? She’s surprised, but, okay, she’ll take it.

It helps that Lilly has had a few minutes to process the fact that she has died, as the moment goth girl appears, it’s like someone hits the pause button on the rest of the universe. Fortunately, Lilly Kane is as adaptable as she is fabulous.

She comforts herself with the knowledge that Sheriff Mars will most surely be on the case once someone gets around to discovering her body even as she grimaces at the fact that she died in her _pep squad uniform_ , for crying out loud. How unfabulous is that? She totally should’ve changed before ditching the car wash for the Echolls pool house earlier.

Still. Bygones, as Logan is wont to say. She focuses forward—on the girl in front of her, on what is likely to happen next.

“Hi there!” Lilly says brightly after taking a moment to look the other girl up and down. Having decided the girl has got style (and is therefore a kindred spirit) despite a distressing attachment to life in monochrome, she pastes her best Daddy-I-love-you-and-I-want-something smile on her face. “I guess you’re here for me?”

Death smiles kindly. “Yep. Gotta harvest your soul, and what not.”

“So, well, I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule, but I hope it won’t be too much trouble if you come back in, oh a year or so.” Lilly borrows a page out of the Veronica Mars playbook and tilts her head. “Pretty please?”

Death smirks. “Not quite ready to work for your wings?”

Lilly frowns. “You want me to _work_ for them?”

“Well, we don’t just give them out to every heiress who sleeps with her boyfriend’s dad.”

“Oh, snap! Judgmental, much? Also, ex-boyfriend, might I remind you?”

Another smirk. “Not always, and not when you started your little affair.”

Lilly pouts. “Fine. You’ve got me. But would it be too bad if you let me stick around a while?”

“Why?”

“Um.” Lilly frowns, then brightens. “Unfinished business?”

Death snorts. “This isn’t _Casper_. But, hey, can I keep you?”

Lilly smiles, and this time it’s her I’ve-got-a-secret-smile. “Sure you can. In a year.”

Death rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

“Great!” Lilly stretches out on a lounger. “That’s perfect.”

Death gets a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what? Let’s stretch it out a few more months. I’ll pick you up when I come for that friend of yours.”

The dead heiress frowns. “What friend?”

One inky black eyebrow arches upward. “The one you learned that head tilt from.”

Lilly sits up abruptly. “Veronica? You’re coming for Veronica Mars?”

“I’m due back here in about nineteen, twenty months for her. She’ll probably be glad to have your company. Her crime scene isn’t as pretty as yours, even if you guys share a murderer.”

Lilly’s eyes narrow dangerously. “What. Are. You. Talking. About?”

Death shakes her head reproachfully. When Lilly only crosses her arms and starts tapping a foot, the black-clad girl sighs, then reaches over and flicks the blond on the nose.

Instantly, Lilly is bombarded with images. It’s a little like elementary school animation, where you draw stick figures on the corners of the pages in your notebook, then flip the pages so the drawings seem to move.

Flip. Veronica, shocked at the sight of Lilly’s dead body displayed for all the world to see on the video streaming platform Jake Kane built his billions on. She tries to leave, but runs straight into Logan, who berates her tearfully. _What’s the matter with you people, huh? What’s the matter with you?_

Flip. Shelly Pomroy’s house. A party. Veronica in a white dress. Madison Sinclair spitting into a drink and then passing it to the smaller blond. Body shots by the pool. A guest room. Duncan—Lilly gasps. _No._ Beaver Casablancas. _No no no no no—_

Flip. Veronica is investigating Lilly’s murder. She and her dad learn to lie to each other.

Flip. Duncan screaming at Veronica. _You think I killed Lilly. How could you think that, even for a second?! What, do you think I’m gonna have another episode and kill you too?!_

Flip. Logan and Veronica, together. Somehow, in spite of everything, it makes Lilly smile. They kiss in the pool house. Logan grabs something from the air vent, and there’s a thoughtful look on Veronica’s face. Logan leaves, and Veronica looks up and finds the camera.

Flip. Veronica’s in disguise. She opens up the air vent in Lilly’s room. She and Duncan watch the video. She leaves the house, tapes in hand. Aaron’s hiding in her back seat. _No—_

Flip. Veronica’s running, or trying to. She tosses—hides—the tapes. She’s pounding her fists on someone’s door. Aaron emerges from behind the curtain. Rage in his eyes. He knocks her out.

Flip. Aaron talking into a walkie-talkie. Veronica’s stuck in the dark. Lilly sobs as she realizes he’s locked Veronica in a freezer. He pours gasoline over the big white box. _No._ He lights it on fire. _No no no no no—_

Lilly blinks and finds Goth Girl’s face just inches from hers. Death smiles. Lilly pushes her away and scowls. “Okay, listen here, Wednesday Addams. New deal.”

Death lets out a lilting laugh. “I’m listening, Lilly Kane.”

“You let me stay, but I start working for my wings. Right now.”

Black eyebrows shoot up and disappear beneath shaggy bangs. “You’re going to try and change what Destiny has written? That’s rather… daring of you.”

Lilly’s smile is sharp and full of teeth. “Daring’s my middle name, right after Fabulous.”

Death smirks. “I was sure it was Carnathan.” She takes a seat on the poolside lounger, props her chin on a pale hand as she regards the dead blond girl thoughtfully. “You know,” she says casually, “there’s not much you’ll actually be able to do, besides watch. If you’re strong enough, you’ll maybe get to touch their dreams. If they’re sensitive, they might hear a whisper when you shout in their ears.”

Lilly straightens to her full height. Her chin is up, green eyes flashing. “Never let it be said that Lilly Kane backs down from a challenge.”

Death smirks. “I like you. You’ve got style.”

Lilly smirks right back. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” she drawls. “Have we got a deal?”

Death grins, extends a hand. They shake on it. She steps back. “Good luck, Lilly Kane. I hope your friend loves you half as much as you love her.”

Lilly smiles, and it’s a true smile this time, full of joy. It’s the first smile that makes her look as young as she really is.

“But of course,” the blond says. “I am, after all, the fabulous Lilly Kane.”

Death laughs, and with a jaunty salute, disappears into thin air.

Lilly turns to her cold body, looks into her own staring eyes. She hears the sound of the SUV she shares with Duncan pulling into the driveway. He must be home from soccer practice.

She turns her back on the body and the house she used to live in. She doesn’t watch as her brother comes out, finds her body. Doesn’t look as he falls apart.

Instead, she tilts her face toward the sun. Smiles.

“I’m the fabulous Lilly Kane,” she repeats in a whisper. “And I’m going to save Veronica Mars.”


	6. Exposed (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the world learns that Veronica Mars is the premiere prankster in the Justice League. Warning: Crack ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman. 
> 
> This scene takes place about four or five years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” It’s pretty much crack fic from my crossoververse, so I’m not sure it’s going to make it into ‘verse canon at this point. We shall see, I guess.

Veronica has always hated that every member of the Justice League, in the interest of keeping their public image open and approachable, is required to maintain a positive, upbeat presence in social media. For the most part, everyone keeps things on the up-and-up, posting inspiring messages, raising awareness about important issues, sharing (preapproved) photos and videos of their lives as superheroes.

The latter is actually a priority for the Justice League, as a measure to counteract the growing anti-superhero groups that claim the League is disconnected from humanity, from day-to-day living. Heroes routinely post photos of their food, workouts, and so forth. They go out on the streets and take photos with fans (with the exception of a few, like Batman, who never does any of those things).

The heroes all have massive followings, especially the seven founding members—Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Lantern, Aquaman, and the Martian Manhunter. Several other members are also very popular with the public, such as the Green Arrow, Supergirl, Nightwing, Black Canary, and Zatanna. The League organizes workshops and briefings to keep everyone in the know about trends and League policies when it comes to publicity matters.

But sometimes it becomes _very_ clear that, for all they are mighty defenders of the planet, the Justice League is made up of a whole bunch of overgrown, overpowered children. Squabbles and oneupmanship challenges have been known to erupt into all-out Twitter wars, with the public siding with their favorite heroes. Hal Jordan (one of the four human Green Lanterns) is especially good at heckling both villains and heroes, and the Flash and the Green Arrow are not far behind.

For the most part, the heroes leave the Trinity—Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman—out of their little squabbles, and Batman has added a “don’t mess with Veronica Mars” rule to the League PR policies.

Ostensibly, this is because Veronica is the main liaison between the world’s government, civilian, and media agencies and therefore must maintain a certain public image. Actually, this is because Veronica is the League’s leading prankster, and she spares no one from her wrath when she believes she’s righteous in her revenge. Unfortunately, this is far from a well-kept secret among members of the Justice League

So it is really only a matter of time before someone exposes Veronica’s passion for retaliation—what the Leaguers have started calling the “V Is for Vengeance” phenomenon—to the info-greedy eyes of the Internet.

And Batman, being the secret troll that he is, doesn’t just sit back and let it happen—he actively encourages it.

It starts when a run-in with the sorceress Circe results in a handful of Justice League heroes getting turned into kittens. While Superman, Supergirl, the Flash, and Wonder Woman are back to their humanoid selves in no time thanks to their alien, divine, or metahuman genetics, poor Veronica gets stuck as a cat for several hours longer.

And when she does start transforming back, it’s a slow, incremental process. Which means that, at one point, she spends the better part of a day as a woman who just happens to have a long kitty-cat tail, the cutest little paws instead of hands and feet, a whiskered nose, and soft cat ears on the top of her head.

She can’t go out in public and the paws make operating a computer or smart phone impossible. Some remaining kittenish instincts leave her involuntarily purring and relaxing whenever she falls victim to the incessant petting by superheroes who’ve been turned into gooey cooing messes by the sheer cuteness of her.

Though she snarks back at the League members who take the opportunity to tease (especially when she meows and yowls instead of sneers and shouts), it is the Flash (of course) who steps over the line. He snaps a photo of Superman stroking one of Veronica’s cat ears while she’s curled on a couch with her feet on Batman’s lap while the Gotham vigilante works on routine system upgrades. Not only that, but he posts the photo on Twitter.

 

 **@TheFlash  
** _The #JusticeLeague has our own little kittycat at the Watchtower tonight! A magical hit leaves @VeronicaMars even cuter than usual—@Superman & @Batman seem to agree!_

 

The tweet goes viral. The entire hero community shares it. Beyond the Justice League, it gets retweeted by the BatClan, the Outsiders, the Teen Titans, the Avengers, the X-Men, and even the Fantastic Four.

Not only that, but even the _supervillains_ are digitally cooing over the photo. Ra’s al Ghul (and no one knows _why_ the head of the League of Assassins is even _on_ Twitter) replies to the tweet with a photo of a snowy white cat Veronica jokingly gifted him five years ago. Lex Luthor offers to have his personal chef make her gourmet catnip and kibble if she’d just abandon the alien and come and work for him. The Joker even posts a selfie in which he holds up a green-and-purple kitty-collar with a large bell on it.

Unable to chase down the Flash (he isn’t called the fastest man alive for nothing) and prevented from replying or retaliating online by annoying kitten paws for sixteen more hours, Veronica mewls and yowls and makes dire promises about the future of the scarlet speedster.

The heroes at the Watchtower are overwhelmed by cute aggression just watching and listening to her. They take photos by the dozen, but none are foolhardy enough to post them. This turns out to be a wise decision when the spell finally wears off and Veronica has hands and fingers again.

The first thing she does is get on Twitter.

 

 **@VeronicaMars**  
Replying to @TheFlash  
_You better keep running @TheFlash, because my revenge will be complete and devastating. You will never see it coming, and you will be tempted to travel back in time to undo your stupidity before I_ _’m done with you._

 

Which the rest of the Justice League (not to mention Veronica’s family and friends) took as an invitation to break the Internet.

 

 **@GreenArrow**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Damn @TheFlash you_ _’re screwed now. No one gets their revenge on like @VeronicaMars. #VisforVengeance is a thing!_

 

 **@Superman**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Oh @TheFlash, you_ _’re never getting snickerdoodles again. @VeronicaMars: I’m happy to take his share of the cookies #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@Aquaman**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Better lock up your food & valuables if the half-pint is coming for you @TheFlash #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@WonderWoman**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_I am eternally grateful none of your pranks were ever directed at me. #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@GreenLantern**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Even the guardians tremble when @VeronicaMars is on a retaliation rampage #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@BoosterGold**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Glad its not me for once. Good luck, @TheFlash. Nice knowing ya #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@Nightwing**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Hahaha! @TheFlash: Dude, you are so dead #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@TheRealRobin**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_You may inform me if you require any assistance, Mars. #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@BlackCanary**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_Oh god. I remember what you did to @GreenArrow_ _’s bike after he ate the leftover lasagna your dad sent. #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@WallaceFennel**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars  
_All these Justice League peeps using #VisforVengeance is making me nostalgic. Oh the stories I could tell, @VeronicaMars_

 

 **@GreenArrow**  
Replying to @WallaceFennel @VeronicaMars  
_I don_ _’t know who you are, but I’m dying to hear these stories #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@LoganEcholls**  
Replying to @WallaceFennel @VeronicaMars  
_Same here, Fennel, same here. In fact, I have three words for you: bong in locker. Oh, here are two more: frame up. And that_ _’s just one story I could share._

 

 **@VeronicaMars**  
Replying to @WallaceFennel @LoganEcholls  
_Don_ _’t you dare, @WallaceFennel! And @LoganEcholls aren’t you supposed to be deployed somewhere? Why are you even on Twitter?_

 

 **@LoganEcholls**  
Replying to @WallaceFennel @VeronicaMars  
_Shore leave, bobCAT._

 

 **@Supergirl**  
Replying to @WallaceFennel @LoganEcholls @VeronicaMars  
_Do tell, do tell! #VisforVengeance_

 

It only takes a few hours for #VisforVengeance to start trending worldwide. Heroes, villains, celebrities, and civilians the world over beg for #VisforVengeance stories. Websites, blogs, and all sorts of news outlets and tabloids start running exposes on the secret pranks of superheroes—never mind that Veronica has always vehemently denied the label. Veronica sends out a message to all her contacts warning against giving in to the pressure.

And then Batman, that most obnoxious of rodent-trolls, decides to undermine her authority.

 

 **@Batman**  
_#VisforVengeance  #WatchtowerTales #dyebomb #boobytraps  
_ [Photo attached: A comically shocked-looking Superman with his hand on the lid of a cookie jar, his face and torso splattered in neon pink dye]

 

 **@GreenArrow**  
[Retweeting @Batman’s photo]  
_We should totally caption this. Suggestion: How a greedy @Superman learned not to steal all @VeronicaMars_ _’ snickerdoodles from the communal cookie jar at the cafeteria. #VisforVengeance  #WatchtowerTales #dyebomb #boobytraps_

 

After that? Well, as the Green Lantern likes to say, it’s on like Donkey Kong.

 

 **@GreenLantern**  
Replying to @Batman  
_What about the time @Cyborg thought it would be funny to give @VeronicaMars a lame fake identity name for an undercover case? His hand got stuck in a one-finger salute for 4 hours! Still don_ _’t know how she did it. #VisforVengeance #WatchtowerTales  
_ [Photo attached]

 

 **@Aquaman**  
Replying to @Batman  
_I remember when @BoosterGold wouldn_ _’t stop hitting on the #JusticeLeague ladies, and @VeronicaMars stuck a remote controlled mini shocker in his codpiece. #VisforVengeance #WatchtowerTales_

**@GreenLantern**  
Replying to @Batman @Aquaman  
_Or when @Aquaman wrecked her date with @LoganEcholls by crashing a water spout on them. She dismantled the tank in his room & replaced it with an inflatable kiddie pool, complete with rubber duckies. #VisforVengeance #WatchtowerTales_

 

 **@Nightwing  
**_Pre-#JusticeLeague #VisforVengeance story: @Superman gives @VeronicaMars_ _“flight training” by nudging her off a building then catching her at the last minute. She sneaks into his place, mixes @Batman’s special glue into his hair gel right before he goes on a date with @LoisLane._

 

 **@LoisLane**  
Replying to @Nightwing @VeronicaMars @Superman  
_Oh god, is THAT what happened? He kissed me and I slid my hand into his hair—it would_ _’ve been romantic if it hadn’t gotten stuck there. #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@Batman**  
Replying to @LoisLane @Nightwing @VeronicaMars @Superman  
#VisforVengeance  
[Video attached: Lois pulling at her hand, which is buried in Superman’s hair and obviously stuck there. The reporter is squealing, “Let me go!” while the Kryptonian is protesting, “It’s not me! I didn’t do this!” After a moment, Superman can be heard making a phone call. “Batman, I need help!”]

 

 **@Nightwing**  
Replying to @LoisLane @Batman @VeronicaMars @Superman  
_B, why have you never shown me this video? I_ _’m literally crying from laughing so hard._

 

 **@VeronicaMars**  
Replying to @LoisLane @Batman @Nightwing @Superman  
_Sorry about that, Lois. Didn_ _’t realize until Supes called B that you’d become collateral damage in the war against Kryptonian brattiness._

 

 **@LoisLane**  
Replying to @VeronicaMars @Nightwing @Batman @Superman  
_Extenuating circumstances, Nica darling. #VisforVengeance was certainly warranted if he pushed you off a building, even as a joke._

 

 **@Superman**  
Replying to @LoisLane @Nightwing @VeronicaMars @Batman  
_I_ _’ll get you for this, @Batman! #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@Nightwing**  
Replying to @LoisLane @Batman @VeronicaMars @Superman  
_Uh oh, I think I know what_ _’s coming. #VisforVengeance_

 

 **@Superman**  
_That time when @Batman stuck @VeronicaMars on desk duty for a month and she retaliated by sticking fake black nipples on all the batsuits and drawing abs on the armor. #VisforVengeance #WatchtowerTales  
_ [Photo attached]

 

Superman’s Twitter account is hacked less than sixty seconds later, and the tweet is deleted. The photo disappears from the Internet completely—even screen grabs are automatically wiped from the computers they are saved on. The story becomes one of those Internet legends that never dies, despite there being no proof of it.

The next morning, Ellen DeGeneres calls Veronica up to beg her to come on her show. “I feel the need to genuflect before the goddess of pranks,” the comedienne says.

Bruce and Clark prod Veronica into agreeing.

During her next trip out to Central City, Veronica manages to add extra-hot chili sauce or chili powder to the contents of everything in the Flash’s refrigerator and pantry. She even injects chili oil into his Twinkies and doses his milk.

And as for Batman? Veronica replaces the entire contents of Bruce Wayne’s underwear drawer with sequined and/or glow-in-the-dark Justice League-themed boxer briefs.


	7. Throw Pillow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why statement pillows are a bad idea.

“Hey, honey, I brought over that last box you forgot over at my place.”

Logan will say one thing for his tiny blond girlfriend, now live-in fiancee—she is fast. With a squeak of surprise and dismay, she grabs the throw off the back of the couch and flings it around herself as she disappears into their bedroom.

Leaving him completely dazed and in the buff as the front door starts to open. And then his brain starts to function and he realizes he has like half a second before Keith Mars, former sheriff of Neptune and always Veronica’s gun-toting father, walks in. He grabs the nearest thing he can reach to cover himself—one of Veronica’s statement throw pillows, closing his eyes and cursing the fact that neither of them had bothered to lock the front door earlier.

“I hope this is the last bo—”

The sight of Keith Mars completely discombobulated is a rare one. Under any circumstances but the one he finds himself in, Logan would relish the comedy provided by the man’s gape-jawed shock. However, as the cause of said shock, he is painfully aware that this could be the last night of his life.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Mars. Veronica didn’t mention you’d be stopping by tonight.” He tries for a smile, but all he manages is a grimace.

“I should hope so,” Keith says, cheeks burning. One part of Logan’s brain registers that the blush has reached the man’s bald head.

Both men fall silent. Clearly, they are both determined to brazen it out.

“So, uh, how’s it hanging?” Logan claps a hand over his runaway mouth. Oh god.

Keith seems to be recovering, because he smirks and says, “I could ask you the same, but…” He nods toward the pillow. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Huh?”

For some reason, the former sheriff decides to be merciful. Later, Logan decides he won’t question it, just be eternally grateful.

“Look, son. I’m going to walk out that door and stand on your porch for five minutes or until you ask me to come in. You’re going to tell my daughter to reacquaint herself with her gumption and come out and say hi to her dad because you and I both know she’s fully dressed by now. And then neither you nor I nor she will breathe a word of this ever again because we will all do our best to forget it ever happened. Capisce?”

“Yes, sir.” What else is he going to say, really?

Keith sets the box in his arms down, turns, and walks back toward the door. He stops. “And, Logan?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I never want to see that pillow again.”

The door closes behind the smaller man, and Logan looks down at the pillow that saved his dignity. He closes his eyes in mortification and stifles a groan.

It reads  _#blessed_.


	8. Patient (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating Veronica Mars always did require a lot of patience. Now that she’s a member of the Justice League, this is truer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman and Superman. 
> 
> This scene takes place about four or five years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” It also happens shortly after the scene I wrote for Day 3 of this Promptober challenge, “ [Demonstration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/37771088).” Logan’s a fighter pilot in the US navy as per movie canon, but otherwise, in VM canon, this deviates after Season 3.

Logan once told himself he would wait forever for another chance with Veronica Mars. He stands by that, even two hours after they’d agreed to meet at a charming little Italian restaurant in Metropolis. It hasn’t been twelve hours since the aircraft carrier he spent the last six months on docked at the naval base in Norfolk, Virginia, but he didn’t want to wait to see her. The fact that he is now waiting to see her is not lost on him.

“Look! It’s Superman!”

The excited shout from one of the restaurant patrons has Logan turning. Just outside the restaurant, the Man of Steel is touching down, a small blond woman in his arms. Everyone inside the restaurant and on the street outside is staring, but Logan’s probably the only one whose eyes are fixed on the woman instead of her large companion.

Said companion leans down—and the guy is like six foot four, so it’s a long way down—to peck the blond ont he cheek. He says something that makes her laugh, then his eyes shift through the glass to unerringly meet Logan’s. Superman nods once, then launches himself into the air.

Veronica turns back toward the restaurant and sees Logan standing by the bar, his glass of Coke long forgotten. Her whole face lights up, and Logan pats himself on the back for his patience. She is well worth it.

She makes her way over and immediately throws herself into his arms in a hug. Everyone has been staring at her since Superman left, but she doesn’t seem to notice it. He’s got all her attention, and realizing this makes every bit of his weariness ebb away.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” she says. “I crashed my car into one of Luthor’s murder bots, and I couldn’t get a cab. I had to call a friend to give me a lift.”

Logan smirks. “That’s some taxi service you’ve got. Are you okay, though?” He eyes a bruise on her cheek.

“Yeah. Couple of bumps and bruises, but that’s par for the course. I wasn’t needed, but the bot landed right in front of me, so what’s a girl to do but run it over?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “And I thought your life was weird and dangerous when we were teenagers.”

She grimaces. “Yeah, things are way crazier now.” She sobers. “Do you still want to do this?”

He frowns. “Do what?”

She gestures to indicate the restaurant. “Date me. We could just call this a dinner between friends, if you like.”

“Bobcat, I’ve waited years to date you again. And I do read the news. I know who you work with. You think the occasional megalomaniac or alien invasion is gonna scare me away?”

She chews at her bottom lip. “I just wanted to give you an out. No one at the League has a great track record with relationships.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Even Superman?”

She groans. “Ohmigod, he’s one of the worst. Possibly the only ones who are worse than him are Green Lantern and Batman. I don’t know why those guys always end up with either danger magnets or supervillains.” She tilts her head. “Though considering your job, I don’t know if I’ve got any room to talk.”

“I’ll say the same.” He smirks. “But, for the record, I do absolutely still want to date you.”

She groans and covers her face with her hands. “Why are you being so nice when I’ve kept you waiting for two hours?”

“What’s a couple of hours? I’ve been waiting to take you on a date for eight years.”

Blue eyes widen, then soften. “Logan…” She trails off, licks her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”

He smiles gently. “Then don’t say anything. Let’s grab a table, and you can show me if you can still put away manicotti like the world’s about to end and it might be your last meal.”

She smirks. “Oh, so you mean like any given Tuesday?”

He shakes his head. “You’re one of a kind, Veronica Mars. Let’s get you fed.”

“You do still know the most direct route to my heart,” she says, eyes comically wide, face delighted.

He chuckles and raises his hand at the hostess, who scrambles to attend them. She wasn’t half this accommodating before Veronica made her big entrance, so he supposes there are some perks to dating a member of the Justice League.

They are seated at one of the best tables in the house. Logan takes a moment to just stare at her. The soft, warm lighting of the restaurant make her look positively golden. She rolls her eyes then crosses them and sticks out her tongue.

 _Yes_ , he thinks, smiling. _Definitely worth the wait_.


	9. Shadow (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman is out of commission, so Veronica dons her mask and cape and helps Robin patrol Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She is a pretty famous private investigator; she lives in Gotham for the most part, but comes home to Neptune fairly often. She also takes a lot of cases in Metropolis, New York, LA, and Star City. In Gotham, she also moonlights as the vigilante known as Vesper, a colleague of Batman’s.

The vigilante known as Vesper prowls the rooftops of Gotham, Robin at her side. It's their third night out as a duo. They stick to the shadows whenever possible, occasionally stepping into the dim halos of streetlights to interrupt muggings and other attacks. The Bat is out of commission, having broken his leg during an encounter with Killer Croc.

“Bat signal’s lit up,” says Umbra, their tech-and-tactics partner and one of Veronica’s oldest friends.

“We see it,” Vesper says. As always, she’s a little bemused by the way the vocal modulator in her armor deepens her voice and adds a rasp to it. The faint Gotham accent she adopts while masked is automatic by now. “ETA in ten.”

She and Robin pull out their grappling guns and make their way toward the rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department’s HQ.

“Let Robin take point on this,” Batman rumbles over the coms as they swing between buildings. “Gordon’s never met Vesper, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Vesper knows why he insists on this. Veronica Mars, famed private investigator, works closely with the GCPD and with Commissioner James Gordon in particular. But she also knows Robin isn’t seasoned enough to deal with the cops solo; he’s only been allowed in the field for three months, after all.

“No can do, B,” she says. “I’m not leaving Robin on his own while your leg heals up.”

“It’s only for a couple of weeks,” Batman grumbles.

“Alfie says you’re to stay off it for eight,” Robin reminds him.

“No names on coms,” Batman barks out.

“Sorry,” Robin replies, but he grins at Veronica, and she knows that behind the white lenses of his domino mask, he’s rolling his eyes. “Agent A says you’re benched for eight weeks, Batman.”

Veronica grins back, though she knows he can’t see it since her mask covers her whole face. “The kid’s right, B. It’s why I’m here, after all. So we do this my way.”

“Please try not to compromise your identity by cracking jokes at Gordon,” Batman says, and the pain in his voice has nothing to do with his broken leg.

“Telling her not to snark is kind of like telling her not to breathe,” Umbra comments. “Gordon’s facing east if you wanna do the shadow-loving ninja thing B does.”

“Sure. Why not? It could be fun. Coming in from the west, then.”

Vesper and Robin land on the rooftop on silent feet. She takes a moment to observe the commissioner, who is sipping coffee from a mug she recognizes as one his daughter gave him for Father’s Day. She waits a beat before speaking. “Commissioner.”

He chokes, whirls to face her, coffee sloshing so he lets out a curse.

“Smooth, V, really smooth.” Umbra is smirking. Vesper can tell, even over the coms.

She pulls a tissue out of her utility belt and offers it to Gordon. “Sorry,” she says.

He sighs. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Although you’re not who I was expecting.”

“Aww, it’s fine, commish. You were expecting the Bat, after all.” Dick does a handstand on the rooftop railing. Veronica rolls her eyes. “Vesper’s covering for him tonight, though.”

“I can see that,” the commissioner says, frowning. “May I ask what happened to Batman?”

“Out of town,” Veronica says, making sure to deepen the Gothamite accent just a tad. “Consulting on a case.”

“Oh.” Gordon frowns. “I wasn’t aware he worked outside of Gotham.”

“Sometimes.” She shrugs dismissively, knowing Batman would have her hide for sharing too much information.

Fortunately, Gordon takes the hint and changes the topic. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Vesper. Mostly from the criminals you’ve helped apprehend. They seem… strangely fond of you.”

She smirks, though he can’t see it. “Despite the similarity in our outfit colors and a shared fondness for ass kicking, the mysterious fearmongering thing is Batman’s schtick, not mine.”

Dick snorts. “The Bat’s gonna get you for that, Ves.”

“I will,” Batman promises via the coms.

“He can try,” Vesper says, more in response to Batman than to Robin. “But he knows I’m right, and he also knows I am fully prepared to spray paint his bat suits in neon colors if he tries to mess with me.”

Gordon, having just taken a sip of his coffee, chokes again. Bruce is cursing in her ear, while Dick snickers. Veronica ignores all of that. “So what have you got for us, commissioner? A new case?”

He pauses. “I’m not sure how closely you work with Batman on the, uh, investigatory side of things—”

“She does,” Robin pipes in, making Batman growl. “Sometimes she helps him see the things he missed.”

Gordon’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s impressive.”

She shrugs. “The Bat’s not always great about factoring the emotional angles into an investigation.”

The older man nods. “I can see how that might be the case. Well, it turns out I could use a consult.”

He holds out a case file. Veronica itches to open it and start poring over the details of whatever crime he needs help with, but she knows Batman’s MO well enough. So she takes it, tucks it into a hidden pocket in her cape.

“I’ll be in touch,” she says.

She takes a moment to consider her exit strategy. She could steal a page from Batman’s playbook and do the ninja disappearing thing into the shadows. But she glances ad Robin, all pent up energy and springiness. And smiles.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Commissioner,” she tells him.

“The pleasure was all mine.”

She nods, then leaps up onto the railing. “Robin,” she says, letting laughter and challenge warm her voice even with the modulator. “Catch me if you can.” With a jaunty salute for the commissioner, she does a backflip off the side of the building.

“Oh, it’s on! Ready or not, here I come!”

Laughing, the pair scampers across the rooftops, Umbra’s chuckles and Batman’s threats in their ears.


	10. I Almost Forgot (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old acquaintance sees Veronica Mars hobnobbing with the rich, famous, and heroic at a gala in Washington DC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman, Superman, and (later) the Green Arrow. 
> 
> This scene takes place a few years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” I’m not sure it’s going to make it into my crossover ‘verse canon at this point as it’s just a scene I thought of then couldn’t seem to get out of my head. We shall see, I guess.

A-list action star Connor Larkin swirls his scotch idly as his gaze travels over the crowd in front of him. It is very obviously not his scene—he’s much more familiar with the too-wide smiles and airbrushed faces at Hollywood parties or even the cheerful brashness of New Yorkers than he is with the charged doublespeak and genteel snobbery of the Washington DC political set—but it makes for interesting character studies.

He recognizes the power players, of course. Both the president and the vice president of the United States are present; it’s practically unheard of except on the election trail, but given that the new ambassador isn’t just a princess of a long-lost island paradise but also a founding member of the Justice League, this doesn’t really come as a surprise.

He also recognizes some of the movers and shakers among the obscenely rich. There are a handful of billionaire playboys—again no surprise, considering said princess is from a country where all the citizens are gorgeous women, each of whom know dozens of ways to kill a man without breaking a sweat.

Most famous among this group are Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne, both of whom grace the tabloids at least as frequently as Connor does—possibly more, considering they have reputations for living large and have both enjoyed the title of People’s Sexiest Man Alive. If Tony Stark were here, it would complete the trifecta of America’s richest, handsomest, and most eligible, but Iron Man must be off with the Avengers tonight.

Connor notices both Queen and Wayne are seated at the same table fairly near the center, with a petite blonde woman between them. The three of them appear to be having a debate of some kind—or rather, the two men appear to be debating, while the blonde between them plays referee.

Suddenly, as if realizing she is being watched, the blonde looks in his direction, and Connor is startled to find she looks familiar. She smirks, and Connor suddenly remembers where he knows her from, remembers a party hosted by the son of his asshole of a co-star.

He watches as she excuses herself from the men, who both stand as she gets up, only to resume their discussion when she heads in his direction.

He is frank in his appreciation of her. She is wearing a gown the color of midnight that seems to whisper secrets as she walks. Her makeup is simple, almost natural, but with enough gloss that she would look right at home on any red carpet, much less this rather staid gala.

She walks up to the bar he is leaning against, tilts her head and smiles at the bartender. “Can I get something pink and fruity, please? The pinker, the better.”

The bartender grins and gets to work. “You got it.”

She turns to Connor and drawls, “Connor Larkin.”

He has spent the last ninety seconds frantically scanning his mental files, trying to remember her name. “Ah, Monica? Logan Echolls’s teenage detective girlfriend?”

She purses her lips, but her eyes are laughing at him. “Close, but no cigar. It’s Veronica, Veronica Mars. However, I haven’t been a teenager in a very long time, and Logan and I are just friends these days.”

Connor raises his glass. “Good to see you again, and Logan and I were never really that close, so I’ll admit I almost forgot the circumstances of our meeting.”

She grimaces. “Probably a good thing. That night was a bit of a disaster.”

He purses his lips. “Poker night, right? It’s all coming back to me now.”

She reaches for the drink the bartender has set at her elbow, offering the guy a smile and her thanks. “Do you try to charm all the ladies with Celine Dion song lyrics?”

Connor’s gaze takes her in, from the golden blonde curls to her stilettoed feet. He smiles. “Only the hot ones. If Logan doesn’t know what he’s missing by staying in your friend zone, the man isn’t as smart as I thought he was.”

She laughs. “I did like you, both times I met you.”

He grins back. “Well if the third time’s the charm, then I hope you’re in love with me by the time we leave here tonight.”

“You know, before I met you, Logan told me your abs were drawn on.”

“The little shit! They are not! Just ask my bitch of a Crossfit trainer.”

She smirks. “Well, I’m sure your date will appreciate learning how real they are.”

Connor frowns. “How do you know I have a date tonight?”

“Your name isn’t on the invite list, so I’m assuming you’re one of the people laying claim to the name ‘and guest’ tonight. There are only a few, as guests were encouraged to name their plus ones when they RSVPed.”

“It’s true, but—”

Before Connor can ask how she knows who is on the invite list, he is startled to see Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne have joined them. He’s surprised by the men’s silent approach and a little overwhelmed by how large they are in real life. Not that he’s scrawny, but both men look like they’d be good in a brawl. He imagines the small blonde beside him feels positively dwarfed by them, Wayne in particular.

“Brucie, Ollie.” Veronica greets them without a blink of the eye or any surprise at heir sudden appearance. She toasts them with her drink. “Meet Connor Larkin, an old acquaintance of mine. Connor, Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne.” The men nod at each other, then the two billionaires turn their attention back toward the tiny blonde beside Connor.

“What the hell are you drinking, Nic?” Oliver asks her, a pained expression on his face as he eyes her glass.

“Dunno,” she replies cheerfully. “I asked for something pink and fruity.” She takes another sip. “I can tell you that this drink is most assuredly both pink and fruity.”

“Veronica, you’re not sixteen.”

“Oliver,” Veronica mimics his tone exactly, and Connor is amused by how it makes the billionaire wince, “you’re not the alcohol police.”

“Somebody should be. Don’t know how you can drink that crap,” Bruce says jovially. His eyes flick over the bottles displayed on the shelf behind the bar. To the bartender, he says, “I’ll take a Loch Niven 25, neat, please.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Wayne,” the bartender replies.

“I’ll have the same,” Oliver says.

“So you criticize my drink without even tasting it, and then you copy his?” Veronica scoffs. “Some connoisseur you are, Mr. Nightclub Owner. At least I’ve got originality going for me.”

In response, Oliver swipes the glass out of her hand, takes a sip, then grimaces. “Even my baby sister wouldn’t drink this crap.”

“I like it. And, hey, I got the bartender to mix something new for me instead of just copying my friend’s drink.”

“Loch Niven is a decent scotch, and the 25 is a good year. Brucie has impeccable taste in alcohol. It’s one of his few redeeming qualities.”

“It is. I do.” Bruce nods, grinning. Then he leers at Veronica. “And I have many redeeming qualities.”

Oliver opens his mouth to retort, but Veronica cuts in with a glance that instantly shuts the billionaire up. “You know, I met Collin Niven once. He was house sitting for Nicholas Cage. He was really sweet. I was sorry when I sorta broke up his potential engagement before he could propose.”

Oliver smiles. “Of course you did.”

Bruce pats her on the head. “Of course you were.”

“So why are you guys hanging at the bar instead of preying on some unsuspecting heiress or debutante like the bad boy billionaires you’re supposed to be? There’s quite a few of them out there.” Veronica gestures toward the rest of the room.

“Because we’re here, checking on you,” Oliver says mildly.

“Well, as you can see I’m catching up with an old acquaintance and well-provisioned, so shoo! Flirt like the pretty boys you know you are. Plus points if you can use that line from Hamilton!”

“‘If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it’?” Oliver smirks. “Like anyone would believe we’ve been to war.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “No, Brue-boo here would never pull it off. I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘I’m a trust fund baby, you can trust me!’” She laughs.

Bruce takes a sip of his scotch. “We’re your dates. It’s not nice to flirt with women other than the ones you come to an event with.” Connor notes idly that the other man sounds like he’s quoting someone.

“Is that Etiquette According to Alfred 101?” Oliver laughs.

The tiny blond between them sighs heavily, holds up a finger and starts ticking off points as she lectures them. “Okay, one, you are not my dates. You are pseudo-dates at best because I wanted to be here to check up on our guys without playing helicopter boss. Two, neither you nor I are nice people, although the jury is still out on Ollie here. Three, you’re known for leaving events with more women than you arrived with, you manwhore.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t marry you in a heartbeat if you would have me.”

“You say that like I don’t know you’d only be marrying me because your kids and your butler all like me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad reason.”

“You say that like it’s a good one.”

“Tell the truth, Brucie, baby. You hit on one of the Amazons and got shot down, didn’t you?”

The billionaire drains his glass and gestures for the bartender to refill it. “Shut up.”

Veronica and Oliver burst out laughing. “So now you need me to stroke your ego?” Veronica asks, elbowing Oliver in the gut when he accuses Bruce of being lame.

“Yes, I’m in desperate need of comfort.”

“We can stop for ice cream on the way back to Gotham. Also, you know Diana would castrate you if you messed around with one of her shield sisters, so I don’t even know why you’d bother flirting.”

Bruce tries to pout and glare simultaneously and just ends up looking petulantly confused. “Shut up, or I’ll ditch you.”

“That’s fine.” Veronica smiles at him beatifically. “I’ll just go home with Ollie.”

“You know, Nic actually arrived with me tonight,” Oliver observes.

“She’s coming home with me,” Bruce growls.

“She doesn’t have to.”

“Yes, she does. She promised my kid pancakes for breakfast.”

“Isn’t that what you have a butler for?”

“She promised him pancakes too.”

“I brought a limo.”

“I brought a Lambo.”

“I brought a fist I can plant in both your faces,” Veronica interrupts their squabbling, not even bothering to look at them as she sips from her drink. “And Brue, your kid will have his pancakes tomorrow regardless of who I catch a ride with tonight.”

They are instantly repentant. “Sorry, Veronica,” they chorus.

“Don’t listen to these idiots,” Veronica tells Connor, rolling her eyes. “Not only do they like to engage in dick measuring contests every chance they get, but they’ve also taken it into their heads to act like the big brothers I never had or wanted. Never mind that Ollie here actually has a little sister who might benefit from his overbearing ways and Bruce has a gaggle of kids who would better appreciate his mother hen tendencies.”

Connor chokes a little at the thought of Bruce Wayne, known far and wide for his unabashed womanizing and his entitled asshole attitude, being a mother hen.

“My sister threatened to shoot me the next time I showed any signs of being ‘overbearing,’” Oliver mutters.

“And what makes you think I won’t?”

“Also, you gave her information—with pictures, I might add—to blackmail me with if I even tried.”

“Sisters before misters, yo!”

“What do you do?” Connor asks her. “And, um, congratulations on your business venture, I guess? I hadn’t heard.”

“No reason to,” she murmurs. “I haven’t seen you in, what? Eleven, twelve years?”

Connor nods. “Sounds about right.”

Veronica smiles. “I’m still an investigator. I also consult on security and other related matters. One of my clients supplied extra people and logistics for this shindig.” She waves to indicate the embassy.

Oliver smirks. “That’s an awfully modest description of what you do, Nic.” He leans forward and tells Connor, “You’re looking at the person in charge of the Justice League’s civilian contractors. She’s also the League’s primary liaison with governmental and non-governmental agencies.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Wow.”

Veronica grimaces. “More like I’m the nanny for the capes and cowls brigade. It sounds cooler than it is.”

Bruce Wayne looks thoughtful. He also looks like being thoughtful physically pains him. “You knew Nica twelve years ago?” Connor nods, and Bruce turns to Veronica. “Twelve years ago, you would’ve been in high school.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“High school? Really?” Now Oliver looks curious as well. “Now this I want to hear about. Nic has only ever introduced us to a couple of people from her misspent youth, and she’s sworn them to silence.”

“Unless you count her dad, and he’s always too suspicious of us to share any fun stories.” Bruce pouts.

“Trust me, you don’t want to hear about Neptune, California,” Veronica says. “It’s basically the missing tenth circle in Dante’s Inferno.”

“We already know about the Lilly Kane case,” Bruce says, waving a hand dismissively. “She was some sort of cousin on my mother’s side, after all. But I don’t think you ever mentioned knowing Larkin here.”

“We met on a theft case at the Echolls estate. I told you I used to help my dad out when he was just getting the business started. Plus, I took a few cases from classmates, earned a little cash on the side. I agreed to find some stolen poker money in exchange for a buy in at the next game.”

“You figured out who stole the money then wiped the floor with me and the rest of the guys at that poker game,” Connor says, shaking his head. The details of their last meeting had come to him while the billionaires were bickering. “You walked away with five grand.”

“Four, minus the buy in. It wasn’t hard. You weren’t very good.”

“Echolls as in Logan Echolls?” Oliver asks. Connor is slightly creeped out by the shit eating smile on the blond billionaire’s face.

“Yeah, he was the one guy who posed any challenge that night,” Veronica says. She is glaring at Oliver, who only grins back, but Connor isn’t sure why.

“You played poker with Veronica Mars?” Bruce chuckles, distracting them. “Brave man.”

“She pretty much played us,” Connor admits sheepishly. “I didn’t know any better, having just met her. Although the rest of the guys were her friends—”

“Not really,” Veronica mumbles.

“—And they seemed pretty surprised.”

Oliver laughs. “I see you started your card sharking young.”

“It’s a gift.”

“More like a curse you unleash on the unsuspecting.” Connor turns his head to see who is speaking and nearly drops his drink when he sees the Man of Steel hovering a couple of feet off the ground, his arms crossed over his chest, head tilted in amusement. “Veronica Mars is one of only a handful of people who has successfully bluffed the Batman.”

“You really don’t need to spread that story around just because you suck and can’t bluff your way out of a wet paper bag, Boy Scout,” Veronica snarks. Connor is awed by how unawed she is by the proximity of the most powerful man on the planet.

“You took all my money and I still owe you at least three unspecified favors from the last couple of times we played,” Superman retorts. His eyebrows are furrowed but his lips are twitching. “I think I’m allowed a few sour grapes.”

“A few?” She raises her eyebrows. “Kal, all you do is whine, whine, whine anytime the subject of poker comes up, ya big baby.”

Superman gives up the attempt to frown and grins instead, landing on the ground so he can nudge between Oliver and Bruce, whom he barely stops to nod to, and kiss Veronica’s cheek. She gives him a hug that leaves him smiling broadly. “Bruce. Oliver. How are you doing, Veronica? When will you be at the Watchtower next?” He pouts. “Nobody bakes me cookies, snickerdoodles or otherwise, when you’re not there.”

“I’m doing good. Ah, this is Connor Larkin.”

“I recognize you,” Superman says, offering an awestruck Connor his hand to shake. “My cousin really likes your movies.”

Veronica giggles. “She really likes his abs too,” she mock-whispers to the two billionaires.

Oliver grins. “Supergirl is a Connor Larkin fan? Does she keep a poster on her bedroom wall?”

Superman frowns. “Are you sure you’re talking about Supergirl?”

“Do you have any other cousins who’ve crashed on Earth in the year since I left? Hey, how’s she doing? She told me she started a new job a couple weeks back, but I haven’t had time to catch up with her, though I’ll see her next week. And I’m on-call for the Watchtower for the next month, but don’t have anything scheduled.”

Still frowning, Superman says, “She seems happy. Busy. We don’t exactly see eye to eye with the folks she works with, but she knows her own mind. And likes to remind me who changed whose diapers.”

Everyone but Connor laughs at this comment. “Sorry, inside joke,” Veronica tells him. He gets the impression she has a lot of inside jokes with the three other men present. Although possibly not together. He has no idea what Queen and Wayne would have in common with the Justice League.

“Anyway, you should give her a call, or I’m sure she’d love to come visit. I’m sure if you mentioned knowing Connor Larkin, she’d bug you for an introduction.”

“I would be honored to meet her,” Connor says, and he has to put a lot of effort into making sure he doesn’t stutter.

“Will you be in LA next week?” Veronica asks. She smiles when he nods and tells her he should be. “I’m sure we can manage something. She’s doing a flyover event with the navy jets out of San Diego for Veterans Day, if you’d like to go see that.”

Connor grins. “I would love to.” Truth be told, his publicist would murder him if he doesn’t snatch up this opportunity.

“Cool. I’ll be in the area for a long overdue visit with my dad, and Logan’s gonna be there too, we’ve got plans to catch up over ice cream. I promised to treat her to Amy’s, which serves the best mint chocolate chip ice cream on the entire West Coast.” She glares at Superman. “Don’t tell Diana, though. You know how she gets once ice cream is involved.”

Superman grins. “I won’t, but if you bake her cookies and don’t make any for me, I will be seriously disappointed. So much so I might feel the need to complain about your plans to a fellow League member.”

“Extortion, Kal? I don’t know if I should be proud or ashamed of you.”

“Seeing as you’re the one who corrupted me, I would say the former.”

“You’d have to come to California for cookies, unless I know someone headed your way who wouldn’t mind playing delivery boy. I don’t know that the League would approve the unofficial use of teleporters into the Hall or Tower for cookie delivery purposes.”

“I’d be happy to pick them up if you bake them.”

“You’d fly to the West Coast from Metropolis just for cookies?”

“I used to go to the Watchtower on my off days for your cookies. That wasn’t even on the planet.”

“Huh. Point.”

He tilts his head as if listening to something, but Connor doesn’t hear anything. “If you’ll excuse me, Veronica, gentlemen, I’ve got to—”

“Schmooze,” Veronica finishes for him with a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Diana told me she would make you play politics tonight. Unless there’s a disaster somewhere in need of a flying alien?”

Said flying alien grimaces and fidgets a bit. “No, she wants me to glad-hand with a bunch of DC politicians and military folk.” He sighs. “She coerced me with the blackmail you provided.” Superman frowns at her, looking like a disapproving kindergarten teacher.

Veronica smirks and makes shooing gestures with her free hand as she downs the rest of her drink. “Go work the room, Boy Scout. I’m going to see if there isn’t anything to eat at this joint.”

“I hate when you and Batman call me that,” Superman says.

“Can’t hate the truth, hero. Make sure you flex your pecs for some senators’ wives.”

“I believe dinner will be served shortly,” Bruce says after Superman floats away. “We should probably head over to our seats. I want to hear about this blackmail you have on the Man of Steel.”

She shrugs. “Truth or dare is a dangerous game when you play it with me. After all, I learned it from your cousin.”

Bruce smirks. “Don’t we know it. So you got him to confess to something he wouldn’t want the public to know?”

Veronica shakes her head. “I dared him to sing that song from Space Jam, ‘I Believe I Can Fly,’ after they installed that karaoke in the Tower rec room. I provided Diana with video evidence.”

“Veronica, light of my life, how much do I need to pay to get my hands on a copy?” Bruce is grinning at her delightedly. “I’ll write you a blank check.”

“You know cash isn’t a bribe you can use on me, Brucie baby.” She laughs when he pouts.

“We should head back. I see servers bringing out trays, and we would hate for you to miss so much as an amuse-bouche,” Oliver says, also offering her his arm. He smirks at Connor. “Nic here gets pretty savage when left unfed for too long.”

“Food! Finally!” Veronica sets her now-empty glass on the bar and all but bounces up and down. She does clap her hands before taking both of their proffered arms.

Connor is surprised to find she seems more excited about the prospect of dinner than being escorted by two of the country’s most eligible bachelors or being hugged by the most powerful man in the world.

“I guess I’d better find my date,” he says reluctantly.

“It was good to see you, Connor,” she says with a smile. “I’ll give you a call a day or two before Veterans Day to see if you’re free. You can either join us in San Diego or we can fly up to you in LA.”

With that parting shot, she allows her “pseudo-dates” to escort her back to their table. Connor is reminded of a younger Judy Garland as Dorothy, skipping down the yellow brick road with a friend on each arm.

 _I can’t believe I almost didn’t remember I knew her,_ he thinks, recalling that Veronica Mars was famous for having survived being held hostage by terrorists for nearly two years alongside Bruce Wayne. He sighs, scans the crowd for his date. _Well, he thinks, after tonight, I doubt I could ever forget her again._


	11. Platform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake Kane needs a way to market his video streaming software to the younger generation. The answer to his problems? The Fab Four—a pop band his two kids formed with their best friends.

When Jake Kane launched his video streaming platform, he knew he wanted to capture the interest of younger demographics. And while his software had been successful cross-sold to supplement and in some cases even replace network and cable television, in the ten years since he’d launched Kane Software’s primary product, he hadn’t broken through to his true target market. Engaging the youth, he felt sure, was his key to true success. So he needed something that was young, trendy, and, above all, fun.

Unfortunately, “fun” wasn’t exactly a word one associated with the Neptune-based billionaire. He’d been a workaholic since his teenage years, content to stay home to code and study while others were out living their lives. Doubly unfortunate was the fact that he’d surrounded himself with similarly minded people.

Which is why he ended up turning to his neighbors, a puffed-up sycophant of an actor and his lush of a wife. This almost turned out to be a dreadful mistake. Aaron Echolls, said actor insisted that he was the savior, the pied piper to the youth of today Jake had been looking for. And while Jake didn’t know much about what kids considered cool these days, he was pretty sure it wasn’t some diva action star in denial about his fast-approaching fiftieth birthday.

What turned things around was that, one day, as he made his escape from one of the Echolls’ many boring get-togethers, he ducked behind a shrub and heard something amazing.

Music.

But not just any music; it was obviously being played live, and the vocals that accompanied it were youthful, but (to Jake’s untrained ear), uncommonly good. Jake skulked along the back wall of the pool house—for it was the Echolls pool house the music was coming from—until he got to a window that allowed him to look into the main area.

His eyes widened as he recognized each of the people playing their hearts out on the carpeted band setup.

His own kids were completely immersed in the music. He had always thought his daughter Lilly was beautiful, but with her hands coaxing notes out of a keyboard, her lips inches from a microphone, her eyes closed, she was radiant. Even Duncan, whom he’d been worried about because the boy seemed to lack all of the passion that had consumed Jake at the same age, was completely focused on playing his bass guitar.

Three other people were in the room with them. Logan Echolls, Aaron’s son, applied his sticks to the drums with a speed Jake’s eyes could barely track. And the littlest of the four children, Lianne Mars’s daughter Veronica, was on the guitar, harmonizing with Lilly note for note with the two boys occasionally adding their vocals to the mix.

The sounded amazing.

And suddenly Jake Kane knew how he was going to achieve his goals.

The Fab Four was going to go viral on his video streaming platform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the AU I was toying with writing (okay, I outlined about 80% of it) before I decided to flesh out my current WIP, "The Art of Lying," instead. Not sure if I'm going to revisit this as a full-on project some time in the future, but I may revisit my notes on it when I have a free slot for another WIP. In the meantime, today's prompt had me thinking back to this somewhat-forgotten idea. Haha.


	12. Bowl (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson, newly orphaned ward to billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, hates living at Wayne Manor. Veronica tries to cheer him up by introducing him to the dessert-for-dinner tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meep! So sorry this is late!
> 
> Anyway, I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with Batman but is also pretty friendly with Superman. In this story, which takes place a little over a year after the events of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham,” Bruce Wayne has recently taken on guardianship of Dick Grayson (who will become Robin) after watching the boy’s parents, world-famous trapeze artists, fall to their deaths after a murderer tampers with their cables at the circus they perform in.

Richard “Dick” Grayson, the last remaining member of the circus act that had been the Flying Graysons, creeps through the dimly lit halls of Wayne Manor. His new guardian, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, is out attending some high society function, and the butler, Alfred, is driving him. Bruce’s friend Veronica, whom Dick met just this afternoon, is somewhere around the manor, but honestly the house is so large a handful of people could live here for weeks without running into each other.

Dick turns into the kitchen, hoping to grab something from the refrigerator before retreating into his room. It’s not that Bruce, Alfred, Veronica, and the other girl who comes around a lot, Mac, aren’t perfectly nice. It’s just that he spent his whole life in a loud, tightly knit family group at the circus, where all the adults pitched in to help take care of all the kids at one time or another, and this place, with its endless corridors, its heavy weight of art and history, its occupants whose shoulders are stiff with secrets—all of it is as alien to him as his own life must be to them.

As Dick rounds a corner, he hears soft music coming from the kitchen at the end of the corridor. A woman—most likely Veronica—is singing along to it. Her voice is beautiful; it’s a bright, light soprano, a little like a Disney princess in those movies Dick pretends not to love.

The part of Dick that lives in nightmare flashbacks of bodies flying through the air, only to fall and be broken upon the ground below, the part of him that understands that thrice-checked cables do not snap without some sort of tampering, wants to retreat. But the part of him that misses the happier days before his world crashed down around him with the sound of two bodies falling amid a circus full of screams, the part that misses the songs and the smiles and the fun he used to have in his life—that part of him keeps him inching forward. And his stomach keeps him going, rumbling a protest at its emptiness.

“Baby, you’re a firework! Come on, show ‘em what you’re worth!” Veronica sings along to the radio, using an ice cream scoop as a microphone. On the counter are two bowls, each containing a small tower of ice cream in different flavors, drizzled liberally with chocolate sauce, and topped with a maraschino cherry. “Make ‘em go ‘oh, oh oh!’ as you shoot across the sky-y-y!”

Dick stops and stares, mesmerized by the simple joy that radiates from the small blond woman as she dances around the kitchen while dressed in shorts and a T-shirt that reads “food before dudes” in all caps, with her feet in bright purple fuzzy unicorn slippers. He knows she is a friend of teenage sorceress Zatanna Zatara’s, and he wonders if, like the other girl, this one is made of magic too. Just then, Veronica turns and catches sight of him. For a moment his heart stops, thinking his presence has broken the spell of happiness that is the first bit of light he’s seen in this dreary gadjo mansion since his arrival two weeks ago.

But then Veronica smiles. “Do you know the song?” she asks, turns the dial up on the radio, then dances around the kitchen island over to where Dick is standing. She hooks a casual arm around him, and he’s tall enough (or she’s short enough) that she’s only got a few inches on him, even though she’s a grown woman and he’s just turned twelve.

“You don’t have to feel like a waste of space—you’re original, cannot be replaced,” she sings, then holds out the ice cream scoop to Dick, eyebrows raised. He just shakes his head mutely, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine, but you’re singing the chorus with me,” she says, before singing the rest of the verse.

Half a minute later, she’s tugging him in so they can share her prop as she starts to belt out the pre-chorus. Dick knows the song; it’s all the girls at the circus would sing last year, so he joins in. “You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine,” he sings when Veronica tilts the ice cream scoop his way.

He pushes it back toward her, and she sings the next part. Then she drops the scoop into his hand, and spins away, singing the chorus without the benefit of her “microphone.” Dick finds himself grinning as he holds the ice cream scoop to his mouth and sings along. “Cause baby you’re a firework, come on, show ‘em what you’re worth!”

Two minutes later, the song is over, they are both breathless from dancing and twirling around the kitchen like loons, their grins are wide as the horizon over Gotham Bay, and Veronica has plopped a bowl in front of Dick. “Alfie’s gone, so it’s dessert for dinner night!” she announces. She leans over conspiratorially. “You must never tell him about this tradition.”

Dick snorts. “You say that like he won’t know exactly what you fed me.”Still, he digs into the ice cream with enthusiasm.

She beams. “Too true, too true! But we’ve got a strict ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes to ‘Miss Veronica’s regrettably juvenile eating habits,’” she quotes in an exaggerated British accent. “And Bruce knows better than to mess with either of us when the man likes his food in liquid form because ‘it’s more efficient,’ the heathen.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “His protein drinks are totally gross.”

Veronica nods gravely. “They are completely disgusting.”

They grin at each other in mutual dis-appreciation of horrible health drinks.

“So…” Dick says, then stops and bites his lip shyly. When Veronica’s expression remains open, patient, he gathers up his gumption (and his fandom) and blurts out, “Is it true I haven’t met you before because you were working with Superman?”

Veronica looks surprised for a moment, then smiles. “Yeah, we’re about ready to wrap up a case,” she says, “but don’t tell anyone, okay? The people we’re investigating know I’m on the case, but they don’t know Superman’s my backup, or that he’s the one who asked me to take a look at them in the first place.”

Dick nods his head eagerly. “Do you think I could…”

She smiles knowingly. “Meet Big Blue? I don’t see why not. He comes to visit sometimes.”

The boy’s eyes grow large. “Here? Really?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the P. “How about I invite him over after we close the case, hmm?”

“That would be awesome! Him and the Bat are my favorite heroes!”

“You like the Bat too? People’re still debating whether the guy even exists.” She tilts her head, inviting him to share.

“Yeah, the Bat is totally asterous. And there’s no way that many people would report sightings of him if he didn’t exist. There’s whole forums on the internet! Plus I don’t think all those criminals would be afraid of some ghostie or an urban legend.”

“Well, you know, ‘criminals are a suspicious and cowardly lot,’” Veronica says, her voice deepening to a kittenish growl. She sounds like she’s quoting someone, but Dick doesn’t recognize the reference.

He shrugs. “All I know is, Batman and Superman are the best.” He lifts up his bowl and tilts it to drink the melted cream from the lip.

Veronica grins. “You want some more?” When the boy shakes his head, she grabs his bowl, rinses it and her own, then puts it in the dishwasher. “All right,” she says. “It’s just the two of us tonight, no stuffy Wayne people, but also no superheroes. So what do you wanna do? Be forewarned: if you are going to suggest we watch a movie in the media room, I will do my utmost to convince you to pick the South Park movie or The Last Unicorn.”

He grins back. “I’m good with either of those.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You want popcorn?”

“Do elephants poop shit mountains?”

Veronica laughs. “Don’t let Alfred or Bruce—or Superman, for that matter—hear you using that kind of language. And don’t tell anyone about this hiding space.” She disappears, and Dick crawls onto the counter to see her rummaging under the sink. She pulls out a large pink toolbox, then opens it to reveal a row of air tight containers. She points at each, going from left to right. “Gummy Bears, Twizzlers, Pop Tarts, microwave popcorn. Do not open within view of Alfred or Bruce. You, me, and Mac are the only people who know about this. Mac and I keep it stocked, but if you empty us out you better text one of us to resupply or there will be hell to pay. Got it?”

Dick giggles. “Got it!”

She grabs the container with the microwave popcorn, pulls out a pack, rips it out of the plastic container and pops the bag into the microwave. Three minutes later, she is dumping the popcorn into a bowl and tossing the bag into the bin. “Let’s go, kid. I’m in the mood for unicorns tonight.”


	13. Dead End (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dead-end alley in the most crime-ridden city in the country. Four thugs on her heels. Not a problem when you were trained by the Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with Batman. This ficlet takes place a few months after the events of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” Veronica has moved to Gotham City and enrolled as a student at Gotham University, while moonlighting as a vigilante at night and as a PI consultant to the Gotham City Police Department on her off hours.

_Caught a tail. Will deal with them before coming to work._

Batman frowns when he sees Veronica’s text message. He knows the blond PI is well able to defend herself, having trained her himself, but he is also intimately acquainted with her tendency to poke at rabid bears just because she can. He activates the tracker on her mobile and fires up the prototype plane he’s been working on for the past few months. He might as well take the opportunity to test the stealth functions as well as the vertical takeoff and landing in a real-life scenario.

Three minutes later, he lands the plane on a convenient rooftop, then uses the glider built into his cape to find a position above the dead-end alley where Veronica’s tracker signal has stopped moving.

“Look, boys, I know you all think you’ve got the advantage here, being big, hulking brutes and all, but you’d be wrong.”

“How do you figure, blondie?” asks the guy at the head of the pack (and it really is a pack; four men built like linebackers have cornered Veronica at the end of the alley).

“Would it be too cheesy to quote _The Matrix_ and say ‘I know kung fu’?” She says the last bit in a deepened, Keanu-esque voice.

“Funny, girlie, real funny. Now hand over your bag, your watch, that pretty sparkly bauble at your neck, and everything else you’ve got on you.”

“I’d really rather not. The bauble, in particular, has some sentimental value for me.”

“We’re not messing around here, blondie! We will eff you up!”

“Oh please, how bad can you be if you can’t even say the word?”

Batman resists the urge to sigh at the snark.

“Tough words from a little girl,” one of the thugs sneers, then reaches over to grab Veronica’s wrist. But she has him on the ground in the next second. The three other guys gape at her, and she adopts an exaggerated kung fu pose, still channeling Neo, and makes a “come on” gesture with her fingers.

The remaining thugs rush forward. Suddenly the blond woman has become a whirlwind, kicking and punching, hitting pressure points. A scant couple of minutes later, the men are piled in an unconscious heap on the dank, dirty ground of the alley.

“B,” she says, and he allows himself the tiniest bit of pride that she has realized that he is watching from the shadows above. “What are you doing here?”

He stays silent. Watches as she rolls her eyes. “They’re just run-of-the-mill muggers. I’m gonna call the cops, then come in for work.”

He doesn’t move. He watches her pull her phone out, hit 9-1-1. “Hi, I’d like to report a crime. Some guys tried to mug me, but now they’re unconscious. Can someone pick them up please? I’d like to press charges.” She rattles off the address as well as her details and the details of her contact at the Gotham City Police Department. “Yes, I’ll wait. No, I don’t need you to stay on the line, but if they’re not here in under ten minutes, I’ll be calling back.”

She hangs up. Sighs. “B, go home and play with your toys.”

He smirks. “Am.”

She shoots him a speculative look. “You brought be Batplane?”

He grunts. “Don’t call it that.”

“It’s a plane. It’s shaped like a bat. Designed and used by the Gotham Bat. It’s the Batplane.”

“Hnn.”

“Oh go fly it somewhere fun and stop bothering me.”

“No.”

“Batman, don’t make me tilt my head at you.”

The Gotham vigilante considers this threat for a moment, then huffs out an exasperated breath. “Fine,” he says. “Keep your coms on.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Call for backup if you need it.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Never call me Daddy again.”

“Okay, Batsy.”

“Hnn.”

“Go before I start calling you Batsymatsy cutiepie.”

Thus threatened, the Batman slips into the shadows and makes his way over Gotham’s rooftops to where his plane is parked. Sometimes friends are dangerous to a vigilante’s dignity.


	14. Light Bulb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many surfers does it take to change a light bulb? Logan and Veronica’s new home may not survive finding out.

“Honey, I’m home!” Veronica sings out as she lets herself into the new beachside bungalow she shares with Logan, only to stop and gape at the tableau in front of her once she gets a look inside. Dick Casablancas is perched rather precariously on one of the kitchen stools, hand stretched up toward the ceiling. The stool is in turn sitting on top of the coffee table, with Logan holding it steady. 

What the hell are they doing?

“Welcome home, bobcat,” Logan says, smiling and moving forward to help her with the large bags she’s holding.

“Logan, what the hell?” Dick yelps.

Veronica squeaks as the blond teeters on top of the stool, then starts to fall. Logan spins on his heel and runs back toward his imperiled best friend, but is too late. The blond surfer falls backward, straight onto the couch, which collapses under the impact. A wayward leg kicks at one of the legs of the coffee table, which promptly crashes to the ground as well, stool and all.

“Fuck,” Logan says, tripping over the debris and landing on top of Dick.

“Dick, are you alive?” Veronica asks, dropping the bags on the floor and moving forward.

“I’m fine! Couch broke my fall.”

“Fall broke my couch,” Veronica grumbles.

“Hey, I could’ve died here, Ronnie. Way to be sympathetic.”

“Should I even ask what you guys were doing?” Veronica asks dryly. 

Logan struggles to his feet then rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I wanted to trade out the regular light bulbs for the LED kind. They’re supposed to be more energy efficient.”

She gapes at him. “And you decided not to use a ladder, why?”

“It’s in the back bedroom, and the stool was right there?”

She sighs. “You are so lucky none of my friends are here right now. You would never hear the end of it.”

“Nah,” Logan says, brazening it out as always, “it was Dick who took the fall anyway.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, they probably would only take a few jabs at your clumsiness. But this right here?” She waves toward the wreckage of their living area. “The wrong answer to the question, ‘How many surfers does it take to change a light bulb?’ Cause obviously you need more than two, when it’s you guys. And just wait til my dad hears about this.”

Logan groans as the love of his life snickers wickedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! Finally managed to write a ficlet under 500 words!


	15. Peak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison Sinclair hates Veronica Mars. This is nothing new, but ten years after high school, it’s truer than ever.

What people didn’t appreciate—especially party-wrecking attention-whores with chips on their shoulders—is how hard Madison Sinclair worked to make the tenth year reunion party happen.

Two divorces and a dubious career her mother couldn’t mention without getting that wrinkle between her eyebrows and that disappointed tone in her voice did not for a success story make. But Madison was determined to make her high school reunion the best damn party Neptune had seen in the decade since she’d graduated.

Instead, it had turned into a violent, soggy mess that bombed even worse than Logan Echolls’ un-birthday party junior year. Come to think of it, that party had been pooped by the same culprit as Madison’s reunion party. Veronica Mars. Oh, how she hated the woman.

She’d lied, of course, when she’d said she hadn’t recognized the other blond. When she’d first spied the woman from afar, she’d actually been glad. They’d been friends in elementary school. Maybe the advent of Lilly Kane and junior high had put some strain on that, moving them from “friends” to “friendly.” Then Lilly had died and Madison had stepped up to lead the 09er girls—god knows they’d needed it. And Veronica had become a pariah.

At first, Madison hadn’t had anything against the other girl. She’d even felt sorry for her; being labeled public enemy number one by the king of the 09ers, Logan Echolls himself, was not something Madison would’ve wished on anyone. She remembered those first few months after Lilly died, Veronica sniveling in the girls’ bathroom every day.

Then the girl had gate crashed Shelly Pomroy’s end-of-the-year party, armed with a white dress and a determined expression, like she had something to prove. Madison had secretly admired her balls.

She’d passed the girl her drink, discreetly. Well, she’d given her a trip to the dentist, but mostly because the other 09er girls had been watching. Mostly she’d seen the smaller girl’s courage flagging, and hoped to bolster it with a little of the liquid variety.

And then the bitch had made out with Madison’s boyfriend. Okay, Dick Casablancas wasn’t anyone to write home about, but he’d been Madison’s. And Veronica’s tongue had been in his throat. The skank.

After that, it was war. She’d wondered, later, if the graffiti she’d left on Veronica’s car had triggered the change from long-haired woobie to combat booted angry chick. Part of her had hoped so. They’d pranked and sniped at each other for the next couple of years.

Madison considered she’d probably had the last word after she’d taunted Veronica about her one-night stand with a very drunk Logan Echolls that Christmas break in Aspen. Which, honestly, was some of the worst sex of her life, an episode that had ended with Logan waking up, taking one look at her, and running to the bathroom to worship the porcelain god.

She’d heard it through the grapevine that the couple had broken up. Not long after, there’d been that sex tape, and the guy Veronica had been with had certainly not been the super hot surfer Madison had always thought of as the one who got away. And then Veronica was just gone. Madison had seen her around town some times, probably visiting her dad during the holidays, but everyone knew Veronica had said hasta la vista to Neptune, California, after her first year of college.

A part of her had been glad when it had looked like Veronica wouldn’t be attending the reunion, because good for her, getting out and staying away. A part of her had been sorry they wouldn’t be able to bury the hatchet.

But tonight? As she’d watched Veronica’s face form into familiar lines of disdain, as if all Madison’s work putting this reunion together had resulted in something tacky and cheap, Madison had realized that, much as she tried, she was not going to learn to be the better person tonight. And neither, it seemed, would Veronica Mars.

So she’d turned to Shelly. “You know that ‘award’ you and Sean suggested we give as a gag? With the video you showed me?”

“Yeah,” Shelly said, frowning. “You said it wasn’t funny, and it wouldn’t be classy, so we ditched it from the program.”

“Add it back in.”

This was it. This was the point of no return. Deep down, Madison knew it. She knew that this had been her opportunity to prove that she wasn’t the same person she’d been in high school, mean and so resentful and jealous of a little blond nobody that she could sometimes barely breathe from the green in her veins, her lungs, her misted vision.

She also knew she wasn’t going to take it.

So when the fight broke out, which was inevitable the moment Logan had arrived, Madison was ready. When Veronica, instead of recruiting the burly bouncers at the doors to break up the violence, waved a lighter under the smoke alarm, Madison thought, _Typical. Just typical_.

She let the water from the sprinklers cool her skin, soak her dress. The reprieve from the rage bubbling inside her let her stick to words instead of attacking with clawed fingers and bared teeth.

The pain that exploded in her eye when Veronica punched her was nothing compared to the burning acid in her belly, eating away at her chest. Later, as an EMT checked her out, she watched Logan Echolls’ eyes track the blond woman she had always hated and admired with equal fervor.

Some people peaked in high school. Madison Sinclair knew herself well enough to know that she was in danger of becoming one of them. God, sometimes she thought that Lilly Kane, if she hadn’t died in her prime, and with a bang (or was it for a bang?) at that, would’ve joined her among the ranks of girls who burned too brightly too soon.

As maintenance men started mopping up the soggy destruction that was supposed to have been her triumphant celebration of the only time in life she’d had it better than Veronica Mars—whom she knew well and good was on her way to becoming a hotshot lawyer in New York City—Madison Sinclair watched Logan Echolls watching Veronica Mars.

Some people peaked in high school. Veronica Mars wasn’t one of them. And god how Madison Sinclair hated her for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had _such_ a hard time coming up with an idea for today's prompt! Gah! I hope this works!


	16. Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vengeful ghost finds a way to affect the physical world.

The first time it happens is when Veronica is methodically cutting a white cotton dress with a torn straps into tiny, unrecognizable pieces. The white scraps fall like snow into the trashcan, covering the music box Veronica threw in there just this morning. Lilly doesn’t think her best friend even realizes that her cheeks are drenched, and she winds ghostly arms around the girl who feels as dead inside as Lilly is on the outside.

Lilly knows ghosts are supposed to feel cold when they touch humans, but Veronica seems to lean into her, so the dead girl presses her lips to her friend’s cheek in a desperate attempt to offer what comfort she can.

Suddenly her lips are wet and she tastes salt. In the next moment, Veronica is gasping and pulling away. “L-L-Lilly?!”

“Ronica?” Green eyes widen. “You can see me?”

“Oh, Lilly!”

The live girl all but throws herself at the dead one, and Lilly is shocked to feel thin arms holding her too tightly. Then she folds herself into the hug because god knows they both need it right now. For the next several minutes, maybe hours, Lilly holds the best friend she has in the world as the other girl sobs her eyes out. “Shh,” she says over and over. “Shh.”

“The world has gone wrong, Lilly,” Veronica mumbles. “Everything hurts. Everyone hurts me.”

“I know, Ronica.” There is one person for whom Lilly can be gentle right now, and Veronica Mars is it.

Lilly was beyond pissed when she was murdered, her spirit freezing with fury. And as she’s spent the better part of two months watching her friend’s life fall apart as the people who were supposed to have loved her abandon and betray her, her rage has solidified into something solid and sharp.

Her hit list seems to grow a name for every week she has been dead. Aaron Echolls. Celeste Kane. Clarence Wiedman. Jake Kane. Dick Casablancas. Duncan Kane. Beaver Casablancas. Lianne Mars.

Lilly isn’t sure how she’s going to rip these people apart, but she’s vowed to find a way to do so for what they’ve done to her and to her best friend.

“How are you here?” Veronica asks her wonderingly. “I was just wishing for you and you appeared.”

Lilly smiles wryly. “You think I’m a pearly gates kind of gal? I’ve been here the whole time, Veronica.”

“H-here? Like, with me?”

She nods. “Mostly. Sometimes I check on the Donut or the ‘rents. Sometimes I look in on Logan, who’s almost as big a mess as you are.”

“Nobody’s as big a mess as I am,” Veronica says bitterly. “Not after last night. Not after this morning.”

Lilly’s own eyes fill. “I know,” she whispers. “I know, Ronica.”

She hugs her friend again.

“I still don’t understand how you’re here,” Veronica mutters. “But I’m so glad you are. Can you stay?”

“I don’t know,” Lilly admits. “But I’ll stay for as long as I can.”

They spend all afternoon and the evening together. Lilly doesn’t need to eat or drink, but she and her best friend spend the whole time talking as if their worlds didn’t come crashing down in pieces the day Aaron Echolls bashed Lilly’s head in with an ash tray.

After Veronica falls asleep late that night, Lilly feels cold again and knows she’s become incorporeal. But they experiment, and she discovers the secret to her physical form: Veronica’s tears and heartfelt wish that she be there.

And it’s not something that limits her, either; though she makes sure to spend a little time with her friend every time she manifests, once she has been called to corporeal form, Lilly is free to go where she pleases, invisible to everyone else unless she focuses hard and channels a lot of energy into being seen, and able to stay this way until Veronica falls asleep again. After that, Lilly can only appear in Veronica’s dreams until she tastes the salt of her friend’s tears once more.

As the weeks and months go by, Veronica cries less, plans more. Lilly sees her friend is investigating her murder, and while she is happy to have someone so committed to seeing she gets justice for what is done to her, she can’t help but worry for her friend. So she does some planning of her own.

Now that Lilly has a way to affect the physical world, she focuses on more than building up her friend’s flagging spirits—though of course she still takes the time to lecture Veronica on her fashion choices and infuse some much-needed Lilly-style encouragement into the other blond’s life.

As she Lilly watches her former posse turn on her best friend, she keeps adding to that hit list. She might’ve been fabulous in a bubblegum Lolita kind of way as a live girl, but as a dead girl Lilly Kane has decided she’ll make one hell of a poltergeist.

She’s got a list, after all. It’s about time she started crossing names off of it. And she’s going to start with Hollywood superstar Aaron Echolls.

“This is for Logan,” she says, channeling her energy as she tears his trophy room apart.

“And this is for me,” she says, as she tampers with the brakes on his prized Ferrari.

After she walks away from his wreck off a cliff along the PCH, Lilly turns her gaze and her feet toward the house that used to be her home, where Celeste Kane is standing in her closet, trying to decide which outfit conveys “tragedy-struck mother” without making her look sallow or unattractive in any way.

“You’re next,” she promises.

But she has time. She floats to Neptune High, the school she once ruled with Veronica at her side. She watches her best friend flick a knife open and start to cut a boy free from the flagpole he’s been duct taped to.

“Go, Pirates!” she hears Veronica sneer.

“That’s my Ronica,” she whispers, smiling. Then her attention is caught by the boy at the flagpole, the considering look he sends her best friend’s way.

She smiles. Eventually, she knows, Veronica will find new best friends to fill her life with, even if she’ll never be able to replace the fabulous Lilly Kane. In the meantime, she’s got a list of names of people to punish and a cute little blond girl to protect.

And she can do it, she knows. She’s armed with the salt from her best friend’s tears and the love in her heart. That’s all a dead girl really needs to kick ass anyway. She’ll leave the combat boots and snarky comments to Veronica Mars. Lilly’s got her own agenda.


	17. Enchant (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica is attacked by a sorceress and turned into a kitten. The Justice League is immediately hit by a bad case of cute aggression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a prequel to Chapter/Day 6: “[Exposed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/37814363).”
> 
> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman. 
> 
> This scene takes place about four or five years after the end of “Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham.” It’s pretty much crack fic from my crossoververse, so I’m not sure it’s going to make it into ‘verse canon at this point. We shall see, I guess.

Everyone knows Batman hates magic. So when Wonder Woman recruits Veronica Mars’s help with a missing persons investigation and the evidence points to the sorceress and self-proclaimed goddess Circe as the prime suspect, the Justice League is leery of contacting Gotham’s Dark Knight for assistance. In fact, they call in several members to come help before the Bat gets wind of what’s going on and swoops in to save the day with a sorceress of his own in tow.

By the time this happens, however, five members of the Justice League have already been hit by an enchantment that turns them into kittens. And while something in the magic and metahuman physiology helps Zatanna turn Superman, Supergirl, the Flash, and Wonder Woman back into their normal selves right away, it doesn’t seem to work for Veronica.

“I’m sorry, Br-Batman,” Zatanna says, although she can’t seem to stop giggling and stroking tabby-Veronica’s soft fur as she says it, so the apology seems a little insincere. “I’m pretty sure the spell will fade in a day or two, and worst case I can try again at the full moon in three days. John Constantine should be back from that other dimension by then, and he likes Veronica, so he’s sure to be willing to help.”

“Hnn.” Batman hugs the kitten in his arms to him protectively.

“I’ll call my dad when we get back to the Watchtower and ask if he can suggest anything,” Zatanna promises.

“Batman, perhaps I should hold on to Veronica,” Wonder Woman says, greed in her eyes. “Should the spell wear off, she may be disoriented to find herself with you.”

The Gotham vigilante glares at the Amazon. “She trusts me.”

“That’s right,” Superman says, coming closer to hover beside the Bat. “Veronica should stay with Batman and me. She’s known us the longest, so we’ll keep her calm and happy. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?” The Kryptonian coos as he scratches under Veronica’s chin, making her purr.

“Batman to Watchtower. Seven to transport.”

Aquaman is at Watchtower control. “Bat? Scanner’s reading only six signatures, and a…cat?”

“That’s right. Seven to transport.”

“Oh-kay. You got it.”

In a flash of light, the Justice League heroes and kitty-Veronica are in the transport bay of the Watchtower.

“Oh, man, I have got to get me a picture of kitty-Nica,” the Flash says, booping Veronica on the nose with a finger, which she swats at with a little paw, reducing the scarlet speedster into a puddle of goo.

“No,” Batman growls.

“Pleeeeeease?” Flash does his best to give Batman puppy eyes, but Batman has had years of Veronica Mars’s head tilts and hair flips, and he remains unmoved, stalking forward with the kitten in his arms, everyone trailing behind like besotted ducklings.

“Batman, can I please, please, please pleasepleasepleaseplease hold her?” Supergirl begs, floating to the Dark Knight’s side. “Please?”

“No.”

Batman takes Veronica to the infirmary, where a bemused J’onn J’onzz declares the kitten to be in perfect health, if a little hungry.

“Debrief in 20,” Batman barks out at the other heroes, all of whom have trailed after him and are crowded around the infirmary bed where Veronica is sitting. They are making cooing noises at the little cat, who yawns at them, making Supergirl, Flash, and Zatanna squee in delight. Batman stalks over and scoops the kitten up, then stomps out.

The others follow, or try to, until Batman disappears into his quarters. Disappointed, they turn away. Superman hovers outside Batman’s room, then keys in his code to gain access. When the door slides open to admit the Kryptonian, Superman beams at the sight of an uncowled Batman feeding Veronica strips of smoked salmon at the small dining table on one side of the room. A bowl of milk sits beside her.

“Gosh, she’s so cute,” Superman says. He gives up all pretense of dignity and just floats in the air on his belly, matching the height of the table, as he watches the kitten daintily take a strip of salmon from Batman’s gauntleted hand. “I’m not sure you should be feeding her smoked salmon though. Isn’t that not too healthy for cats?”

“It is not ideal,” Batman acknowledges. “There is too much sodium. But it should not negatively impact her in the long-term, as I expect she will be back to normal in a few days at the latest.”

“I’ll almost be sorry.” Superman grins manically as Veronica finishes off the last of the salmon, stretches, and rolls over on her back, only to blink at the Kryptonian and walk to the edge of the table to rub up against his cheek. “Aww, she’s so cuddly like this!”

“She is more tense with the others around. I suspect you might be right in insisting that she stay with either of us until she is back to normal.”

“I’d be happy to cat-sit!”

“Of course you would.”

“Hey, didn’t you tell me once that the League of Assassins calls Veronica ‘kitten’?”

Batman snorts. “Yes. Ra’s al Ghul’s idea. Depending on which League member you are speaking with, it’s a term of affection or derision.”

“Can you imagine if Flash did take a photo, and we sent it to him?”

“Superman, we are not sending the Head of the Demon a photo of Veronica, especially not while she is enchanted.”

“I know, I know. But just think of what his face would look like!”

Batman smirks. “That’s nothing. Imagine Lex Luthor’s face.”

Superman chokes, then starts to giggle uncontrollably. “Or the Joker’s!” he gasps.

Just then, Bruce’s phone rings. Batman checks the caller ID, then answers it without bothering to take off his cowl. “Hi Mac,” he says.

“Bruce,” the hacker says.

“Hi Mac!” Superman says, laughter still in his voice.

“Clark.” She frowns. “I heard Veronica and some of the JL got hit by Circe.”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “They were turned into kittens. All but Veronica have been restored to their original forms.”

Mac frowns. “Say what?”

“Veronica was turned into a kitten and remains as such.” Bruce tilts his phone so kitty-Veronica can peer into the camera. She does, and meows authoritatively.

Mac’s eyes widen, and her jaw drops for a moment. Then she starts snickering. “Are you telling me that that—” she waves at the screen “—is Veronica Mars?”

“Yes.”

She starts to laugh. “Ohmigod, that is just precious.”

“No videos, no photos.” Bruce scowls.

“No worries,” she tells him. “You think I’m suicidal? Veronica would kill me.”

“You’re smarter than the Flash is,” Superman comments.

Mac snickers. “That’s not exactly an impressive benchmark. I take it you guys are going to take care of her ‘til she’s back to normal?”

“Hnn.”

“We’ll take care of her, Mac,” Clark reassures her.

“Good.”

After they hang up, they take the kitten to the conference room with them, where Wonder Woman and the rest debrief them on the investigation and battle. Batman tells her to write up a report, then adjourns the meeting. He and Clark then take Veronica to a lounge, where Clark plays with the kitten while Bruce works on a tablet. After a few hours, Zatanna comes by.

“My dad gave me some suggestions to try,” she says. “They won’t hurt her if they don’t work, and they should help transform her back if they do.”

“Fine,” Batman says, plucking the kitten off his shoulder where she has perched, then setting her down on the couch.

Zatanna pulls out a wand and murmurs a spell. There’s a flash of light, and suddenly Veronica is standing on the sofa. Except that the transformation isn’t complete. Veronica still sports a tail and whiskers, fuzzy cat ears, and paws instead of hands and feet.

“What the actual fuck, guys?” Veronica demands. “Meow!” Her eyes widen at the sound and she clasps both her front paws over her mouth.

Batman smirks. “You were turned into a kitten,” he says.

Zatanna sighs. “And remain partially so, I’m afraid. It should wear off in a day or so. Less, if you’re lucky.”

Veronica’s eyes narrow into slits. “So it was Circe?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck! I fucking hate magic. Mrrrrow!”

“Yes.”

Superman pats her on the top of her head to commiserate. Veronica starts to purr, then freezes. She hisses instead, and Superman pulls back, holding his hands up to show he means no harm. But he’s grinning madly.

“Oh shut up,” she grumbles.

“I haven’t said anything!” Clark yelps.

“You were thinking it very loudly,” she accuses. “Mrrow!”

It’s at that point that Batman loses it and starts laughing is head off. Superman and Zatanna join him. Veronica just glares.

“I hate you guys so much,” she says, crossing her paws and scowling.

Batman smirks. “Meow again. See if we care.”


	18. Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve-year-old Veronica Mars runs into one Logan Echolls. Literally.

“Good game, Ronnie!” Dick Casablancas says cheerfully.

Veronica tightens her pigtails, blows sweaty bangs out of her eyes. She bares her lips in a feral smile. “Thanks, Dick,” she says. “Those girls from Pan were going down the moment they shoved Carmen like that.”

“Don’t I know it,” the blond boy says. They’ve been friends since the first grade, and since Dick’s dad signed him up for boy’s soccer team in an attempt to get him to make friends with Duncan Kane, he’s been her soccer buddy as well.

Because Veronica’s dad’s job as town sheriff sometimes means he isn’t available to pick her up from soccer practice, Dick has made a habit of offering her a ride home. Her mom is just as likely to keep Veronica waiting a few hours as she is to pick her up on time, these days.

“Wanna grab some ice cream? I can get the driver to pick us up at the shop, then bring you home on my way to Casa de Casablancas.”

“Sounds great!” Veronica grins at him. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

She starts running for the ice cream shop about a block over from the soccer field, with Dick’s shouts of “No fair, Ronnie!” trailing behind her. But she’s viciously fast, as the opposing soccer team discovered earlier this afternoon, and love of frozen dairy adds fleetness to her feet.

Just a couple of yards from her destination, she slams into something, hard. There’s a yelp—not hers—and she braces herself to hit the concrete of the sidewalk, but someone else cushions her fall. She’s winded, but has a moment to wonder if whoever she landed on is dead, because he grabbed her as they fell but now he isn’t moving.

“Jeez, Ronnie, you just flattened some dude.” Veronica resists the urge to roll her eyes at Dick’s comment, but smiles when he says, “You, uh, you okay, Ronster?”

“I think so,” she says, and gingerly raises herself up on her hands, where they’re on either side of her rescuer’s—victim’s?—torso. She dares to look at his face, and is concerned by the paleness of the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy staring back at her. “Are you okay?”

There’s a pinched quality to the other boy’s face, but he smirks. “I’ve got a hot blond on top of me. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She hops off him hastily, aided by Dick’s large hands as he pulls her to her feet. “Dude!” she says indignantly. “I’m twelve! You can’t say stuff like that to me!”

The brown-haired boy accepts a hand up from his own companion. “So am I,” he says, still smirking. “And I can say stuff if it’s true.” Chocolate-colored eyes meet hers, then meander slowly down her body to her knee-socks-and-cleats-clad feet, then back up again. She feels a little tingling sensation that seems to follow his gaze, but shakes it off. The fall must have shocked her more than she realized.

She makes a show of rolling her eyes. “I was going to apologize for bowling you over, but now I’m not sure I should. Maybe you should apologize to me.”

An eyebrow spikes upward. Veronica tries not to be jealous. She’s been practicing in front of a mirror, but darned if she’s figured out how to master that expression. So far her arched eyebrow game is both or nothing.

“How about I apologize to you by buying you ice cream,” the boy says, “and you apologize to me by joining my friend and I.”

He gestures to the boy beside him, and it’s only then that Veronica realizes she knows him. It’s Duncan, her best friend Lilly Kane’s little brother. He’s actually in her year at school (Lilly being one year older), and he’s Dick’s teammate on the boys’ soccer team.

“Veronica,” Duncan says awkwardly, his cheeks pinkening.

“Hi Duncan.”

His cheeks redden further, and she is suddenly reminded that Lilly told her just the other week that Duncan has a crush on her. Which makes no sense whatsoever, because apart from polite greetings and “how are you doing” types of comments, they’ve never actually spoken.

Unless Lilly’s been spilling secrets (and Lilly never spills secrets, at least not to anyone who isn’t Veronica Mars), the boy knows nothing about her beyond what any person knows about anyone else who’s been their classmate for a year. Veronica’s pretty sure she actually knows more about him than he does about her because Lilly likes to complain about him a lot. Or she did before this whole crush fiasco. Now Lilly’s got it into her head that Veronica and Duncan should fall in love and get married so the two girls can be sisters.

“Dude, tell your friend not to hit on Ronnie, or her dad might go after him with a shotgun.”

Thank god for Dick Casablancas.

Duncan’s friend has stopped staring at Veronica in order to assess the blond at her side. Lips quirking, he extends a hand. “Logan Echolls,” he says. “I don’t suppose you know where a guy can go to surf around here?”

Dick looks suspicious for a moment, but then he shrugs and shakes the other boy’s hand. “Dick Casablancas,” he says grinning. “And yeah, I could show you where the barrels are.” He tilts his head downward. “The shortie here is Ronnie.”

“Veronica Mars,” she says primly. “And Dick wasn’t kidding about my dad being the sheriff, so you better be nice to me so I don’t tell him you’ve done me wrong, Mr. Echo.” She grins to soften the reproach.

“It’s Echolls, actually.”

“Logan’s dad is Aaron Echolls,” Duncan adds proudly. Veronica wonders at the glare his friend sends his way. “His family just moved here.”

Veronica frowns. “Never heard of him. Is he a friend of your dad’s?”

“He’s—”

“Yeah, our dads are friends,” brown-haired boy—Logan—says. “So how about it, Veronica Mars? Care to share a table with the new guy in town? My treat.”

“Sounds good! Doesn’t it, Ronnie?” Dick’s eyes are pleading, and Veronica knows it’s because the other boy expressed an interest in surfing. Dick’s the only one of their friends who enjoys it, and Veronica has staunchly refused to take lessons.

She heaves a big sigh. “If I must, I must.” She narrows her eyes at the new boy. “But we all pay our own way.”

A weird light sparks in those chocolate eyes, though Veronica doesn’t understand it. “I can afford to pay for everyone,” he counters.

“And you can afford not to be a butthead.” Veronica smirks. “But you try to pay for me, and I’ll find I can afford to sit somewhere else.”

He grins. It’s a full-on grin, and Veronica is kind of glad he hasn’t pulled it out before now because the boy is charming. She wishes Lilly were here right now for him to turn his flirt on her. His attention is flattering, but also flustering. Veronica just doesn’t know what to do when his eyes seem to eat her up.

“You’ve got a deal, Ms. Mars.”

She makes a face. “You can just call me Veronica.”

“Or Ronnie,” Dick adds helpfully.

“Veronica,” she says firmly.

Logan smirks. “All right, Ronnie,” he says, his voice teasing, but light. “And you can call me Logan.”

She smiles. “Welcome to Neptune, Logan. Hope you’ll like it here.”  
  
“You know what? I just might.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running behind, I know! Been traveling for the past week, until next week, and where I am right now, the internet hates me. This chapter was written on a plane on my phone. Please forgive the mess. T-T


	19. Can't Do This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime after the Veronica Mars movie, Veronica once again needs Logan's help to sweeten up Ruby Jetson for a case.

“I can’t do this.” Logan is sweating bullets. He turns back, intending to leave, only to find Wallace and Dick blocking the way.

“Dude, this is no time to lose your _cajones_ ,” Dick says. “You promised Ronnie.”

“Do you need me to go find my best friend and tell her the love of her life doesn’t love her enough to sacrifice a teensy bit of dignity for her?”

“It isn’t for _her_ ,” Logan grumbles. “It’s for a case.”

“Uh huh. How long have you known Veronica Mars? And you’re still making that distinction?” Wallace is smirking. It’s never a good sign when Wallace is smirking.

Also when Logan is forced to admit the other man has a point, and a good one. But still. Singing a duet at a karaoke bar with his sometimes-stalker so she can get info on said stalker’s weird connections? There should be limits on what Veronica Mars is allowed to ask from him.

“Up next to serenade us with an old school rock ballad is the duo known as RuLo!”

Logan freezes. Oh no, she didn’t!

But his eyes meet Wallace’s manically delighted ones and he realizes that, yes, oh yes, she did. Jesus Christ, does Veronica owe him a million sex favors for this.

Ruby is already on stage, joking about how her partner is really shy (he’s not, normally, but god, this is goodbye, dignity). She tells everyone this is his first time doing karaoke (it’s not; he used to be Lilly Kane’s boyfriend—she and Veronica used to be ‘oke-addicts). _Then_ she urges everyone to applaud him for encouragement (honestly, it makes him want to turn tail and run even more).

_You_ _’ve spent years flying fighter jets for the goddamn US Navy,_ Logan reminds himself. _You can do this. Veronica Mars would never be with a coward_.

Except when she was with Duncan. And when she was with Troy. And possibly Piz, though Logan supposes Piz was a decent guy he had no reason to hate the everliving guts of, but for the fact that the guy had been living with Veronica Mars and basically about to propose. Or so Logan has gathered from context clues.

But the crowd is cheering, Veronica is beaming from the opposite side of the stage, where she’d been speaking to Ruby earlier, and Wallace and Dick (the traitor) are pushing him up the stairs.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer cries jubilantly. “RuLo, with their rendition of a Meatloaf classic!”

Logan takes a deep breath. Lifts the mic. Squints into the spotlight. _This is for you, Veronica_ , he thinks. _You will goddamn well make it up to me._ Then he opens his mouth and surrenders (to the music, but also to the inevitability of knowing he’s a sucker who’ll ask ‘how high’ every damn time Veronica Mars says ‘jump’).

“And I would do anything for love…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late! I'm someplace where the internet is really slow, and I haven't been able to load up A03's posting interface properly. Gonna post this and Prompt 20 now that it's loaded (well, I hope I can post Prompt 20). Thanks for bearing with me.


	20. Trainer (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Batman, caring about someone is training them. For the people he cares about, this means pain. A lot of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been following my Promptober posts and have not just randomly landed here, I am posting Prompt 19 and 20 in quick succession because I don't know when my internet will be this good again for the next couple of days. So would love it if you gave "Chapter" 19 a read too!
> 
> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment. You don’t need to have read the only story currently published in that series, “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003),” before you read this. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins, and she's basically Bruce Wayne's best friend. She is a pretty famous private investigator; she lives in Gotham for the most part, but comes home to Neptune fairly often. She also takes a lot of cases in Metropolis, New York, LA, and Star City. She works closely with the GCPD but also does investigation work for Superman and Batman.

Veronica Mars sits on the freezing floor of the training room in the Batcave (not that Bruce is happy with her calling it that). Her butt has gone numb from how cold the floor is, but she figures a little suffering is the sympathetic thing to do when not three feet away, the world’s strongest hero is writhing in agony.

In this moment, she deeply, deeply regrets introducing Superman to the Bat of Gotham. She’d been working with the hero for a few months when he’d asked her what she knew about the urban legend known as the Bat. She’d told him part of the truth—that she worked with the Bat on occasion, just as she sometimes worked with Superman—and the Metropolis hero had been all puppy eyes and requests for introductions.

The Bat had decided to test the hero’s mettle by stalking him to Clark Kent’s apartment, then bugging him. With an electronic device shaped like a bat. For real. Batman had pushed Superman’s buttons to see what he would do when he lost his temper, then strapped a bomb to his chest and said an innocent would die if Superman so much as touched him. Superman hadn’t, and when Veronica had gotten word of it, she’d hightailed it to Metropolis to yell at the man she’d come to think of as a brother.

Batman, suitably chastened, had made things up with the Kryptonian by helping him on cases when Veronica wasn’t available. The two had become friends, possibly even best friends, over an astonishingly short amount of time. And while for the first few months, Bruce had been content to let Superman believe he was nothing more than the Bat’s financial backer, he’d eventually trusted the Metropolis hero with the secret of his identity. And offered to help train him.

Which is why they are here, with Superman wearing a kryptonite-studded vest and all but passing out on the Batcave floor as Bruce and Veronica observe.

“That’s enough,” Veronica says finally, seeing the gray tinge of Clark’s skin. “Either you get that off him, or I will.”

Bruce complies wordlessly, freeing the Man of Steel from the killer vest and locking the thing in a vault lined with lead. “You lasted much longer than you did previously,” Bruce observes. “And you were able to defend yourself the first half-hour, although your decline seems to have accelerated after that.”

“No kidding,” Veronica hears Clark mutter. He’s still just lying on the floor, so she comes over and sits by his head, taking a towel and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Water?”

“Give me a minute,” he says, voice still thready. She does, and he eventually pulls himself up to a sitting position, and she hands him a bottle of water, which he drains. “So good. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do, after I let you get tortured for almost two hours.”

“Nothing I didn’t ask for,” Clark assures her, then grimaces. “Although right now I’m wondering exactly what possessed me to ask for it in the first place.”

“When one has identified a weakness, one must either eliminate it or train oneself to overcome or manage it,” Bruce intones.

“When one speaks using the pronoun ‘one,’ one must either cease to do so immediately or prepare oneself to have one’s ass kicked,” Veronica counters, mimicking his tone perfectly.

Clark starts to snicker, then at Bruce’s chagrined expression, lets out a full-on belly laugh.

Even pale from Kryptonite exposure, Superman is an unfairly beautiful man. Veronica observes this fact with appreciation and detachment. She also observes her friend observing the same with something a lot hotter, a lot hungrier. She grins a little. She’s already decided she is as supportive of “SuperBat” as Bruce and Clark are of “LoVe.”

She decides to give them a little push. “Are you staying for tea, Clark? You know Alfred would love to have you.”

Cornflower blue eyes dart to Bruce shyly, then back to Veronica. Superman rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, his cheeks just the slightest bit pink. “I don’t know,” he says.

“Stay,” Bruce barks out. “I wanted to talk to you about your suspicions about Lex Luthor’s latest project.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Not until after tea,” she says. “I baked snickerdoodles, Clark. I know they’re your favorite.”

Superman’s eyes light up like he’s just been told it’s Christmas morning and there are presents under the tree. “They really are,” he says warmly. “Thank you, Veronica.”

She shakes her head. “You and my friend Wallace are such suckers for them. I mean, I’ll admit they’re pretty good, but you both act like I put crack in them or something.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” the Kryptonian says, face and voice grave.

She sticks out her tongue at him. “That joke would work if drugs actually had any effect on your system.”

“Which is why your snickerdoodle recipe must remain a secret from the rest of the world,” Clark says, grinning. “It wouldn’t do to have any random villain with an oven knowing exactly how to enslave Superman, now, would it?”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me get Bruce to bring the kryptonite back out.” She stands up, dusts her butt off, then holds a hand out.

His hand engulfs hers, and he’s obviously feeling better because he puts no weight on her whatsoever, but he still makes a show of letting her help him to his feet.

“You wouldn’t,” he whispers, kissing her on the cheek.

“How do you know?” She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows at him.

He smiles, all cheerful Kansan boy. “I’ve already suffered enough. And you know what it’s like to be on the business end of Bruce’s idea of training. Better than I do, I’m guessing.”

She grins. “That’s what the snickerdoodles are for.”

“I love you too, Veronica Mars.”

“Go shower, Clark Kent. And lose the cape when you come to tea.”

Superman’s suit is hot, but Clark Kent’s butt in jeans? Veronica figures Bruce needs a treat too. After all, Clark’s got snickerdoodles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a little background: I've been toying with the idea of going with SuperBat with my Bruce ship for this series, simply because it's subsumed my fanfic life just a little bit. Other considerations are IronBat and WonderBat, as I'm not a BatCat shipper. Although I am open to persuasion, as I haven't quite finalized Bruce's pairing for this series.


	21. Superstition (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Young Justice team meets Veronica Mars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on a [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, but you don’t need to have read that to read this ficlet (I hope). This crosses over with the _Young Justice_ TV show.
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman. 
> 
> This scene takes place several years after the end of “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003).” It also references previous ficlets I’ve published for Promptober, particularly “[Day 20: Trainer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38320712)” and “[Day 6: Exposed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/37814363).”

“Criminals are a superstitious, cowardly lot.” Veronica rolls her eyes as Batman begins his lecture to the newly minted Young Justice team.

She catches Robin’s eye and sees him smother a giggle. Unfortunately, Superman, watching from the back, frowns at her, so she crosses her eyes at him and sees him bite down on a smile. Ha!

“Pretty sure it’s butt-whooping and not superstition that keeps the Gotham rogues scared of the Bat,” Kid Flash mutters. Veronica grins. She likes that kid.

“You would be surprised,” Batman says, as unflappable as ever.

As the Bat continues his lecture, Veronica moves toward the back of the room, where Superman is standing with Black Canary. “You and Red Tornado will have your hands full with this lot,” Veronica murmurs to the other blond crime fighter, who has agreed to be the primary mentor for the group.

Dinah—or Laurel, as she more often goes by these days—chuckles. “Don’t I know it,” she says. “But the founding members don’t have the time to do the den mothering gig, and anyone else, these guys are sure to either run roughshod over or run in terror from.” She smirks. “Can you imagine what would happen if you got Constantine doing this gig? Or Shining Knight?”

Veronica starts to snicker. “Pretty sure Constantine would have banished at least half the team to some pocket hell dimension within a week. And they’d definitely bully Sir Justin like nobody’s business.”

Superman frowns. “I don’t think they’d be too bad. They’re heroes. Or, well, heroes-in-training. Robin’s been doing this longer than several of the League have.”

Black Canary chuckles. “They’re teenagers. That still means angst, drama, and rampaging hormones. Add to that a dangerous lifestyle, and I’m just glad these are good kids. Even if they’re a handful.”

“I’ll come help when I can,” Veronica assures her. “And I’ll drag the Bat with me often enough that he can be the big bad disciplinarian and I can maintain my rep as the cool aunt.”

Superman smirks. “Pretty sure you secured that rep when #VisforVengeance went viral.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Robin’s school actually got me to come talk to his class about crime fighting on career day. It was mortifying.”

Superman leans down. “They asked her about the bat nipples,” he murmurs to Black Canary, who stifles a guffaw.

“I still can’t believe you posted a photo of that,” Black Canary says, when she’s sufficiently recovered from her laughing fit.

“I can’t believe Batman hacked my Twitter for that,” Superman retorts, frowning in memory.

“Good lord, Big Blue, he’s the Batman. He’s like, the trolliest troll in the history of trolls. Of course he would hack your Twitter account.”

Veronica chuckles at the Man of Steel’s pout.

“Hmph.”

“And by the way, Supes, the Bat and I are dragging you into training too.”

He scowls. “Veronica—”

“This is the point where you say, ‘okay, Veronica, let’s work out a schedule for it.’”

“Veronica, I don’t—”

“Pfft. This team needs you. And you know why.”

His shoulders slump. “I’m not comfortable—”

She sobers and turns to him, tilting her face up so she can stare at her friend’s miserable one. “Since when was doing the right thing ever comfortable?” she asks. “And who knows that truth better than us? I’m not saying you have to do it today. I’m saying that when the need arises, you need to make sure you can answer it. For your sake as well as these kids’.”

She holds his gaze a moment longer, sees his denial but also a measure of guilt in those blue, blue eyes. And, knowing not to push her luck, turns away, ostensibly returning her attention to the Bat’s lecture.

“As members of the Young Justice team, you will be held to the highest of standards,” Batman is saying at the front of the room. “To that end, although Black Canary will be overseeing the bulk of your training, we have also set a rotating schedule of trainers from the Justice League as well as other experts in various fields to educated you on skills necessary for crime fighting and life saving required before you are fledged into the ranks of the League. This will be alongside your civilian schooling requirements and the one-on-one training you receive from your mentors.”  
  
“Why all the extra training?” Robin asks sulkily. “It’s not like we’re less qualified than some of the other guys you’ve accepted.”

Kid Flash starts fake-coughing. “Booster Gold,” he says, between coughs. Veronica smothers a laugh. She really likes that kid. But she also sees resentful agreement from Superboy, who had been liberated from a Cadmus lab just days ago and who she can already see will need a bit of an attitude adjustment moving forward.

That being the case, and seeing Batman’s death glare, she decides to step in. “How about I answer that one, Batman?” she offers. He looks at her, and she can tell he’s raising an eyebrow, but he nods briefly.

She smiles and gives a little wave. “Hey, guys, I know a couple of you have met me before, but for those who haven’t, I’m Veronica Mars, the Justice League’s liaison to, well, most of the civilian and government agencies of the world. I also help out with the League’s investigation work and training, and those familiar with Gotham may know me as the vigilante who goes by the call sign Vesper.

“Robin, you raise a valid argument about experience. However, League bylaws, in accordance with agreements with the United Nations, require that Justice League members be at least eighteen years of age upon investiture. And while UN guidelines do not dictate all League policies, because we try to restrict our rights to take extralegal measures for absolute-necessity scenarios, we cannot swear you into the League as yet.”

“What’s the point of all this then?” Kid Flash asks. “We could just run the team on our own.”

“Good question,” Veronica says, smiling. “The point is that, I’m sure you are all aware that in the League itself, experience counts for a lot. With Batman as strategic leader, you can bet that each and every member has been assessed for their skill levels not just in terms of power and ability but also strategy and their team compatibility. The skills you develop as part of the Young Justice team, given that the curriculum has been designed by the founding members, will ensure that you guys have a leg up on your assessments even before you join the League.”

“Think of it as an internship that will help you fast-track your promotion once you are eighteen and can join the League,” Superman adds.

“Plus, you’ll get to do this with League resources _and_ League backup, should you need it,” Veronica adds. She doesn’t mention that many of the founders think of “League backup” as pulling the kids’ out of danger should they bite off more than they can chew. She of all people knows what it’s like to enter into a crusade before being legally able to vote.

Miss Martian raises her hand. “Why do we need fast-tracked promotions?”

Robin smirks. “You ever been on crowd control duty?”

She shakes her head. “I do not believe that I have, Robin.”

Kid Flash groans. “You do not ever want to be on crowd control duty.”

“Crowd control is an essential element to limiting the number of casualties in a natural or supervillain-induced disaster,” Batman says.

“It’s all so bo-oh-oh-ring,” Robin counters.

“Excitement is not—”

“Ah, give it up, Batman,” Veronica says, winking at Robin, who grins back. “You’re not going to convince these guys that crowd control is more fun than ass-kicking.”

“Language,” Superman says reproachfully.

Veronica rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, making Robin and Kid Flash laugh. She senses Miss Martian and Aqualad’s slightly appalled reaction to her irreverence toward the Man of Steel, but shrugs it off. They’ll learn.

“I don’t see why I need training at all.” The angry statement is from Superboy. Yep, he’s showing all the inklings of being a problem child. But Veronica has already decided she has a soft spot for him. He reminds her a little of a young Logan Echolls, circa sophomore and junior year of high school—angry at the world, but so in need of love and acceptance. “With my powers, there won’t be much I can’t handle.”

It instantly puts Superman’s back up. “Listen, you—”

Veronica interrupts his tirade with a hand on his huge bicep. “Kal,” she says, and he subsides. She looks at Black Canary. “Dinah? Want to take this one?”

“Training is necessary because no matter how much you ‘can handle,’ there’s always bound to be something you can’t rely on your natural skills for. And nature will only get you halfway. Making the most of your ability requires hard work, dedication, and flexibility. Learning to work with others to complement their own abilities? That’s even harder.”

Superboy still looks defiant. “I’m not convinced.”

“Then give us some time to convince you,” Veronica says, smiling at him gently. “Kal?”

But Superman—who has been distant and suspicious since the arrival and acceptance of his younger clone—says nothing, seething silently. Veronica meets Batman’s eyes, rolls hers. She then turns to the team. “What Big Blue isn’t telling you is how much he needed training back in the day.” She smirks. “Batman and I whooped his butt into shape, to borrow Kid Flash’s phrasing. I daresay he's a better hero for it.” She raises an eyebrow at Superman, who nods begrudgingly.

Superboy doesn’t say anything, but she sees his gaze shift to Superman, then herself, then Black Canary, considering. It’s good enough, for now. Some things need to be learned the hard way, Veronica knows. This is often true of Kryptonians, who have very hard heads.

“You can borrow anything of mine, any time you want,” Kid Flash says, interrupting her train of thought.

Veronica grins. “Kid, I’ve been hit on by experts. You need to work on your lines. Or a butt-whoopin’ is all you’re gonna get as you strike out.”

Robin snickers. “Oh, burn!”

“The good news is that Veronica, Batman, and several members of the League have already volunteered to help with training as well,” Black Canary says. “So as you progress, you’ll gain better insight into what it takes not just to fight the good fight, the Justice League way, but you’ll learn what it means to do it your way while still working with others.”

“Will there be cookies?”

This, of course, is a question from Robin. Veronica smirks. “If you’re good,” she says.

“And if we’re bad?” Kid Flash asks suggestively.

Robin shakes his head at his friend. “Oh, dude. You do not want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back in the land of internet! And I know I'm behind, so I'm going to space out posts by a few hours but post twice a day or so, until I get caught up!


	22. Leverage (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Justice League outs her as their princess of pranking, turning her into a social media sensation, Veronica Mars goes on a celebrity talk show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on a [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, but you don’t need to have read that to read this ficlet (I hope). 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman. 
> 
> This scene takes place several years after the end of “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003).” It is a kind of followup previous ficlets I’ve published for Promptober, namely “[Day 17: Enchant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38320712)” and “[Day 6: Exposed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38143610).”

“Our next guest is the official liaison for the Justice League to the United Nations, the US government, and just about any agency that wants to work with the world’s favorite heroes, and it turns out, the leading prankster of the Justice League, please welcome Veronica Mars!”

Hearing Ellen DeGeneres introduce her to the nation is a little bit surreal, but Veronica has no time for butterflies in her belly because Jessie J’s “Bang Bang” featuring Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj— _why is this the song chosen for her?_ she has a moment to wonder—and one of the production assistants catches her eye and makes an exaggerated grinding move, obviously urging her to dance, while simultaneously ushering her forward.

Veronica rolls her eyes inwardly, then sends the woman a glare she learned from the Bat, not waiting to see her straighten and look just a little bit scared before striding out toward the show’s host. She pastes a media-friendly smile on her face and waves to the audience. She learned _that_ from Brucie.

Ellen DeGeneres is making a show of genuflecting as she steps up to the platform, and Veronica rolls her eyes at her, making the host laugh as she accepts a hug. Ellen starts dancing and waggles her eyebrows at her, making Veronica roll her eyes again and start dancing.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Ellen exclaims. She turns to the audience. “You don’t know how much I begged and begged for this woman to come on this show after reading the stories the Justice League were posting on Twitter last week. Did you all get to see those? If not, all you have to do is check out #VisforVengeance.”

“Oh god,” Veronica says, laughing. “Please don’t check that hashtag out.”

“What are you talking about, it’s amazing!” the comedienne gushes. “I mean, who in the world has the guts to prank the Dark Knight?”

Veronica smiles. “You’d be surprised. Superman, Arrow, Nightwing, and I are probably the worst culprits, but there are a few other brave souls out there.”

“And does he ever seek, uh, justice?”

 _Oh, if only you knew_. Veronica makes a show of wincing. “The Bat likes to deal out justice in the training room, and since he oversees the training for the whole of the League, that’s a _lot_ of justice he can dish out.”

“And I guess he has other means of revenge as well, given that Superman’s Twitter account was hacked right after he teased Batman about one of your pranks, the evidence of which has mysteriously disappeared from the internet.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Veronica says with a smirk.

“I really wish you would,” Ellen says mournfully. “I would love to have a copy of that photo Superman tweeted.” She shakes her head. “So I wanted to ask about how all this pranking began. I guess a lot of us have a tendency to hero-worship the Justice League, and I’ll admit I never thought of the Watchtower as being a place where these kinds of shenanigans would take place.”

Veronica grins. “That’s probably how Batman would prefer it, if you asked him.” They share a laugh. “But the truth is, the Justice League is largely made up of people who live everyday lives and just happen to sometimes do extraordinary things.”

Ellen leans forward. “I have never heard the Justice League described that way,” she says. “Usually people talk about how heroic they are, about their super powers. We never hear about the heroes’ everyday lives.”

“Well, probably that’s because almost all the heroes, in order to maintain those everyday lives, have secret civilian identities.”

The comedienne’s eyes light up, and Veronica knows why. The secret identities of the Justice League has been a hot topic for years, but has never been confirmed by an official League member. However, the founders recently decided to confirm this as part of their measures to keep the League’s public image positive, especially since this is pretty much an open secret at this point. Veronica just happens to be a convenient vehicle for this, thanks to her sudden popularity.

“So you’re confirming that the Justice League all have secret identities, that they live regular lives, work jobs like regular people, have families, that sort of thing?”

“Well, most of them do,” Veronica confirms.

“Even the… ah… aliens?”

“Most,” Veronica says with a smile. “Some, due to how recognizable they would be even out of uniform, are unable to, but the vast majority of the League—whether they are humans, metahumans, or aliens—do have civilian identities and all that come with them.” She smirks. “A lot of them went through high school and college, so you can imagine that once there were more than a few of us on the Watchtower, it was a little like living in a giant dorm with a bunch of people with highly specialized skill sets.”

“The Watchtower as a college dorm,” Ellen is repeating, delight in her face. “Ohmigosh, you have _got_ to share some stories about that.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow and lets one side of her mouth quirk up in a smile. “Well, I could perhaps be persuaded to share a few things.”

“Oh, do tell!” Ellen says. “How like a dorm is the Watchtower? Are there frat boys? Sorority girls? Where does all the drama happen?”

“Slow down.” Veronica laughs. “All right. Frat boys? That one’s easy. The Green Lanterns! Sorority girls, I’m not so sure about. Though Black Canary and I did introduce Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, and Supergirl to the concept of slumber parties and nail painting sessions, and now there’s a standing date for it each month. Some of the guys come and join us too, so it’s not just a girl thing these days.”

“I can’t imagine Batman or Superman painting anyone’s nails,” Ellen says.

 _You_ _’d be surprised_ , Veronica thinks, and smothers a grin. But she angles her head and shrugs. “Not everyone paints nails, but everybody knows it’s the best way to get dialed up on all the gossip, and if you aren’t there, the gossip is more than likely to be about you. So a lot of people show up just to hang out. And to answer your last question: the cafeteria.”

“The cafeteria?”

Veronica smiles. “Where all the drama happens. Although I’d say second place for that has got to be the training room, and then the monitor womb.”

“Monitor womb?”

“Yes, as you know, the Justice League is on call to help out with both crimes and natural disasters, so someone is always in the room we call the monitor womb, watching screens to observe weather patterns, keep an eye on any developing situations in case heroes need backup, that kind of thing.” Veronica waves a hand. “They started offering tours to media and government officials last year, I believe.” She knows.

“I’d definitely want to sign up for one of those!” Ellen says enthusiastically.

“I’m sure it would be no problem. You have quite a few fans among the League.”

Blue eyes widen. “Really?”

Veronica grins. “Of course! In fact, when you called, and a few of them found out, they just about nagged me into accepting at the first available date.”

Ellen grins widely. “I’m glad.” Then she goes back into host mode. “So tell me about the pranks! I mean, I’ve pranked a few celebrities—”

“More than a few, I’d say,” Veronica says, laughing. “I’ve enjoyed watching the clips on YouTube.”

“But I’ve never tried pranking a superhero! And it seems you’ve pranked just about every superhero on the League.”

“Not everyone. I do have to work sometimes.”

“Well, all of the founding members, then!”

Veronica shakes her head, smiling. “I’ve never had reason to pull a prank on Wonder Woman. I only prank people as a retaliatory measure, never proactively. And Diana has never done anything to deserve it!”

“So who deserves it the most?” Ellen’s eyes are hungry for information.

“The Flash,” Veronica says promptly, so promptly the whole audience bursts into laughter.

“He’s the reason all of this came to light in the first place, isn’t it?” Ellen asks when the laughter and applause dies down.

“Him, and Batman,” Veronica says. She grins. “I’ve already exacted my revenge for their efforts in turning me into an internet sensation.”

Ellen tries to prod for details on what Veronica has done, but she refuses to share. The host quickly diverts to her original topic. “So as I understand it, it all started when the Flash tweeted a rather sweet photo of you.”

Veronica groans. “You’re going to show the photo, aren’t you?”

“I have a duty to my audience,” the comedienne deadpans.

On cue, the big screen behind them shows the Flash’s tweet, complete with a photo of her when she’d been stuck midway between cat and human after a magical battle gone wrong. She is on a couch reading a file while Superman sits beside her stroking the soft kitty ears at the top of her head, his expression indulgent. Batman works on a tablet while Veronica’s feet—paws—rest on his lap.

Veronica is covering her face with her hands. “Oh god,” she says, laughing in embarrassment. “My friends still won’t let me live that down.”

“You do make a pretty cute kitty cat,” Ellen says, grinning. “But what’s interesting is the tweet you sent a few hours later.” The photo changes to an image of Veronica’s tweet. “Can you read it aloud?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

Veronica sighs. “It says, ‘You better keep running @TheFlash, because my revenge will be complete and devastating. You will never see it coming, and you will be tempted to travel back in time to undo your stupidity before I’m done with you.’”

“That’s a pretty hefty threat.”

“I’ve been working with Batman for too long,” Veronica jokes. “Seriously, though, I was just trash talking. And we’re all good now. Flash and I grabbed burgers at his favorite diner the other day.”

“That’s good to know.” Ellen laughs. “But it seems the rest of the Justice League decided to jump in on the conversation and started using the hashtag ‘VisforVengeance.’”

Veronica purses her lips. “Yeah, it’s a bit of an in-house joke, I guess. Then Batman decided to post a photo, and that’s when things got crazy.”

“I believe the term is ‘broke the internet,’” Ellen teases. “And because the photo made me laugh so hard I almost dropped my phone, it bears sharing.” The screen behind them shifts again, to show Batman’s tweet, which shows Superman with his mouth agape, face and uniform splattered with pink dye.

Veronica just shakes her head and laughs. “I still can’t believe he tweeted that.”

“I believe the Green Arrow suggested a caption for it.” The host reads the next part off a note card. “‘How a greedy Superman learned not to steal all Veronica Mars’ snickerdoodles from the communal cookie jar at the cafeteria.’”

“The thing you have to understand,” Veronica says slowly, “is that oftentimes the heroes with super strength and super speed also have super appetites.”

“How do you mean?”

“Think about the number of calories an Olympic athlete burns daily, and multiply that by a factor of ten, or even a hundred, in some cases. Now the Flash is Mr. Junk Food. But Supes? He’s got a sweet tooth. And he’s an absolute cookie monster.”

“Superman is a cookie fiend?” Ellen looks delighted again.

“You bet your life he is,” Veronica confirms. “Eventually I got sick of having him wipe out the cookie stash. So I thought I’d booby trap the cookie jar.” She shrugs. “I did play fair. I put up a sign saying no one was to touch the cookies until later that evening, as I was saving them for movie night. I would’ve taken the trap off then, so it’s his own fault he got, well, ‘pinked.’”

Ellen laughs delightedly. She then runs through a few of the more popular tweets from the #VisforVengeance thread and has Veronica explain what happened with them. The comedienne looks regretful when one of the production assistants warns her they’re going to go into overtime.

“Okay, we’ve got to wrap this up, I’m afraid, but you can bet I’m going to do my best to have you back here sometime soon!” Ellen says. “I just have a few more rapid fire questions for you, sent in by our viewers, if that’s all right?”

“Sure.”

“All right. Which members of the Justice League do you work with the most?”

“Batman, Superman, and Green Arrow. After that, probably Black Canary and Nightwing.”

“Do you know the secret identities of the Justice League?”

 _Yes, of course_. “Although the League requires every hero with access to the Watchtower to have at least two other League members who know their identities, we don’t all know who everyone is outside the capes and masks.”

“Who’s the worst villain you’ve ever dealt with personally?”

Veronica purses her lips. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“All right. Which member of the Justice League is likely to prank you back for a prank you pulled?”

“Batman.”

Ellen’s eyebrows shoot up, obviously prodding for more information. Veronica smiles, but keeps her mouth shut. “What’s the best part about working with the Justice League?”

She grins. “That’s an easy one. I get to play with all the toys!”

The audience laughs, and so does Ellen. “All right, last one. Who’s the most powerful member of the Justice League?”

“Huh. That’s a tough one, because everyone’s got different strengths and weaknesses, and the whole point of the League is to help each other complement the former and compensate for the latter when it comes to global threats.” She realizes what a serious answer this is, though, and decides to lighten things up. “Of course, if you were going to ask who’s got the most leverage with the League…” She grins as Ellen leans forward eagerly. “Let’s just say I have several videos stored away that many of the capes would prefer never saw the light of day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for [Irma66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irma66/), who wanted me to get Veronica Mars and Bruce Wayne on the Ellen Show as part of my "Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham" fic. This is way, way later, and part of the crack that may or may not make it into the actual series, but here you go.


	23. Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Veronica run into an unlikely blast from the past while lost in the woods.

It’s getting dark when Veronica spots a flicker of light through the dense foliage. She stops, turns back, squints. “Logan,” she says.

“I know, I know. We’re never going hiking without a map and GPS again.”

“No, I mean yes, that’s true, but what’s also true is I think I see a cabin.”

“For real?” An hour or two ago, his ego might not have let the naked relief bleed through his voice or relax his face like that, but they’ve been walking through the woods for four freaking hours, and she has made full use of her extensive training in snark and complaint to express her displeasure.

“No, I just wanted to see if you were ready to admit defeat.” Veronica inwardly shakes her head at the way her snark crumbles at the sight of Logan’s dejected pout. “Kidding, Lo. I saw some light thataway.” She points.

“Oh thank god.”

For the next half hour, they trudge through the wilderness. The cabin isn’t far away, but they need to take a roundabout route to it, circling around dense vegetation, fallen trees, and even a small pond. By the time they’re on the tiny porch, it’s full dark, and Veronica has scraped her arm and knees tripping over rocks and twigs along the way. Logan has a scrape on his temple from a low-hanging tree branch. They’re both shivering from the chill as despite it being summer, the temperature dropped the moment the sun did.

Ever protective, he takes the lead, keeping her behind him as he knocks on the door.

Veronica isn’t the religious type, but she knows that with her luck and given how today has gone, there’s a not-insignificant chance that the person inside that warm little cabin might be a real-life Hannibal Lecter. So she offers up a silent, _Please, god, let this be a good person and not a serial killer_ , as the door swings open.

She’s shocked when the face is one she knows. It helps that he’s wearing almost exactly what he was the first time they met—dark shirt, jean jacket, khaki pants, and sturdy work boots. His curly hair is a little grayer, but she recognizes those doelike eyes, that almost sleepy-looking gaze that disguises an uncannily sharp understanding of people.

“Hi,” Logan is saying. “My girlfriend and I got a little lost—”

“Josh?” she asks, stepping out from behind Logan. “From the Moon Calf Collective?” Logan’s staring at her, and she can tell he’s thinking, _The what the fuck now?_ But she ignores him and smiles. “I don’t know if you remember me—”

But he smiles, and just like he did all those years ago, bends down and folds her into a big hug. “Of course!” he says warmly, holding on tight.

Veronica squeaks in surprise, having forgotten how touchy-feely the folks at the collective had been. Logan steps forward. “Back off.” There’s something menacing in his voice, and Josh reacts to it, stepping back.

“Valerie? No, it’s Veronica, isn’t it?” Josh says easily, as if Logan isn’t doing his best to glare the skin off his face. “Casey’s friend? It’s so good to see you! I was sad you never decided to come back to the collective. I’d hoped to reconnect with you, but, well, I guess things got in the way. But here you are, and you look great!”

She can’t help smiling wryly at his genuinely happy expression. “I very much doubt that, but thanks for the compliment. And I never came back because—” She hesitates. “I guess I wasn’t sure if I was welcome, after getting you guys in trouble like that.”

Josh waves a hand dismissively. “We knew the risks, and more importantly, Casey helped us find a lawyer who helped us help Rain the legal way.” Then he stiffens. “Oh, but what am I doing keeping you guys out here? Come in, come in. You must be freezing!” He turns to Logan. “I’m Josh, by the way. Come in, both of you.”

Logan shakes the other man’s hand briefly. Veronica can tell he’s still a bit wary, but has relaxed a little after listening to her conversation with Josh. “Logan,” he says. “Is the Casey you’re talking about Casey Gant?”

Josh smiles. “Yes! Are you a friend of his as well?”

“Somewhat. I haven’t seen him in a while, though we’ve touched base from time to time over the years.”

Josh nods. “He’s very busy, and he spends most of his time in New York these days. But he does come to visit whenever he’s in the area.”

Veronica startles at that. “He still comes by the collective?”

“Yes, and you guys should too, next time he’s over. I know he’ll be pleased to see you, Veronica. We spoke about you frequently after that. He was worried about you, before he left for college.”

She ducks her head, suddenly shy, suddenly embarrassed that she hadn’t done a single thing to keep in touch with Casey Gant. Even though they’d apparently been living in the same city for a while. “He’s a good guy,” she says. “I should’ve stayed connected with him.”

“He figured you had your reasons,” Josh tells her kindly. Then he smiles at her and Logan. “Anyway, I’m glad you caught me, as I was just about to head back. It’s the last day of my week-long sabbatical from the collective—recharging those batteries with a little solo time, you know?—and I had forgotten my wallet in the cabin and gone back for it, then decided to do a last check to make sure I hadn’t left anything else behind. Can I drop you guys off somewhere?”

_Later that night_ …

“So,” Logan says. They’re soaking in his dream of a tub, willing the warm water and bath bombs to soothe away the soreness of their ordeal.

“Mmm?” Veronica doesn’t open her eyes.

“How do you know that guy Josh?” Even with her eyes closed, she can tell he’s frowning. “And why didn’t I know you used to be friends with Casey Gant?”

She snickers, opens her eyes. “Did my dad or I ever tell you about that time I tried to save Casey from a cult?”

“Casey _Gant_?”

“Mmmhmm. There was a period in high school when he took up hacky sack, sold his car to fund a poinsettia farm, and started spending all his evenings sharing stories and singing around a campfire.”

“You are _shitting_ me.”

She smiles. “Oh, the things you have yet to learn about me, Mr. Echolls.”

He smiles back. “So I’ve discovered, Ms. Mars. Care to enlighten me?”

“Only if you promise you don’t plan any more couple’s hiking trips.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, this is so late! I've been crazy busy over the past few days, and have had not time to fix up these posts! Will have to work triple time to catch up!


	24. Bookmark (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has the feed of search results for “Veronica Mars” on the Gotham Gazette and Daily Planet websites bookmarked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on a [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, but you don’t need to have read that to read this ficlet (I hope).
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She’s the Justice League’s liaison to many human agencies and contractors because although she does have a masked vigilante alter ego, she actually does more work as herself, a bigwig investigator. She works closely with the whole JL, but particularly with Batman and Superman. As per movie/book canon, Logan's a naval pilot, but otherwise, this AU diverges from canon after Season 3.

Logan has two guilty pleasures when it comes to booking time on the ship’s computers whenever he’s deployed.

The first is Veronica’s emails.

She’s a flood-or-famine type writer. There will be times when she sends him rambling messages detailing her days, her thoughts on the admittedly crazier-than-Neptune town she’s moved to, and updates on her friends’ lives as well as her own. She’ll pepper these epic emails with shorter emails showing him pictures of cats or even selfies of herself, and often Mac and Bruce, as well as another person she’s befriended in her new East Coast life—a Metropolis reporter named Clark Kent.

Then she’ll get caught up in a case and he’ll get no info for days, even weeks. He always makes sure to shoot her little emails during this period, just asking how she is doing, reminding her he’s always happy to be a sounding board, if only via email or when their schedules align enough to Skype.

Most of the time, she’ll message back with brief notes like “On a case. Busy, but doing okay. Stay safe.” Sometimes he’ll get radio silence for long stretches. Either way, she eventually returns to her rambling emails like she had always been writing them instead of risking life and limb (he assumes, partially because it’s her and partially because it’s Gotham) to investigate whatever case had gotten her so caught up she couldn’t type up more than ten or twelve words to him.

Still, he knows, when she’s busy, that’s better than Wallace gets. Heck, that’s better than _her dad_ gets, and that’s saying a lot. At least, it does to Logan.

But he can’t help worrying about her. He’s been doing it since they were twelve, and he’ll probably be doing it from beyond the grave, which hopefully won’t be for another sixty or seventy years yet. Worrying about Veronica Mars is possibly the last addiction Logan has, and the one he has no intention of kicking.

However, he’s learned a little about managing this addiction over the years. The first step: establish a baseline. If he checks his email and finds Veronica hasn’t sent him anything for three days or more, he sends her a note. If she goes three days without replying to his note, he checks in with Mac. Who always replies, even if it’s just a brief _she_ _’s working undercover_ or _she_ _’s traveling for a case_.

Of course, the counting is only one measure to keep his sanity. He also keeps a Google Alert for her name. He also has the tag feed for “Veronica Mars” bookmarked on the websites for both _The Gotham Gazette_ and _The Daily Planet_. He added the latter after noticing how often her name comes up in articles by her friend Kent as well as stories by Lois Lane and Cat Grant.

“You done cyberstalking your girlfriend, Mouth?”

Logan grimaces at his WSO (his weapons system officer, pronounced “wizzo,” although Veronica always likes to stretch it out so it rhymes with Cheese Os, because he swears that woman’s mind is at least half on food at any given time). “What’re you talking about?”

The other man snorts. “Ya think we don’t know you do the whole Google alert thing for your girlfriend’s name?”

“Okay, one, she’s not my girlfriend—” Logan ignores the way the other man lets out yet another snort. “And two, I just like to make sure she’s okay. She’s got a dangerous job.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mouth, but so do we. And it ain’t gonna get less dangerous if you keep worrying about some chick half a world away. She’s probably safer than you are, anyway.”

Now it's Logan's turn to snort. Safer? Veronica Mars? In Gotham City? He shakes his head. That’ll be the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another post in my desperate attempt to catch up! Will probably be posting these hard and fast over the next few days. Advanced apologies for the chapter flood if you're following this or me!


	25. Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Aaron Echolls dies, a couple of vengeful ghosts are right there waiting for him.

It takes a few minutes, after the bullet enters his skull, for the ghost of Aaron Echolls to even realize anything is wrong. He’s so caught up in watching himself on TV, he doesn’t even realize that weird sound he’d heard was from a silencer.

The first thing that clues him in is the way his dead wife and dead underage lover are smirking at him on either side of the television.

The second thing is the piercing scream from Kendall Casablancas when she walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, bends down to whisper something suitably slutty in his ear, and sees the blood.

“Jesus!” He jumps away from her—and right out of his freaking body. “What the fu—?”

“In case you need things spelled out for you,” Lilly Kane says from behind him, her voice surgically sharp with scorn, “you’re dead, genius.”

He whirls around. “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re dead.”

Lynn crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “In case Lilly’s pronouncement, the fact that you’re seeing dead people, and the whole jumping-out-of-the-body-with-the-hole-in-its-head thing didn’t clue you in, darling, let me reiterate: you’re dead.”

“How?” He cannot believe this. He freaking just got out of jail, he had plans—for himself, for his asshole of a son, for that bitch of a brat Veronica Mars, among other things—he couldn’t just be _dead_. Not now.

“Lynn, I can’t believe you married a guy with piss for brains,” Lilly says, smiling. It’s a knife’s edge of a smile, Aaron sees when she turns back to him. “Lover, that’s what happens when someone blows your brains out.”

“Okay.” Aaron sits on the edge of the couch. He realizes after a moment that Kendall has sufficiently recovered from her shock in order to rifle through his wallet for cash— _seriously?!_ —and tuck it into her own wallet before putting it back and picking up the hotel phone to call for help. “Okay.”

Somehow her appalling behavior is what convinces him what they are saying is true. They watch his face, and they probably see the moment it relaxes in acceptance.

“Well, that was a lot quicker than I expected it to happen,” Lynn says.

“Screw you too, darling,” he says, smiling broadly. Aaron’s always prided himself on his acting, but he knows that’s really only his second best thing. The real thing he’s best as is improvisation. “So, are you ladies here to escort me into heaven or something?”

“Ohhhh, lover, it’s so funny how you think you’re going _there_.”

Her smile, already razor-edged, sharpens further. His wife is smiling in exactly the same way. And that’s when Aaron Echolls knows he’s screwed.


	26. Tomorrow (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Mars meets Lex Luthor. Oh, and Bruce Wayne is there to introduce them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment (the third I’ve planned, in fact). I don’t think you need to have read anything from it to read this ficlet, but do let me know if it leaves you stumped.
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica is famous nationwide as a private investigator; she lives in Gotham and is known as Bruce Wayne’s best friend after they were rescued together from a terrorist kidnapping ring (their cover story for time spent with the League of Assassins). This story takes place perhaps a year or less after “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003).”

It’s Veronica’s first time in the City of Tomorrow, but from the way Lex Luthor is rambling, she’s wishing it was yesterday and she’d said no when she’d been asked to be Brucie Wayne’s plus one.

“Please do not make me go over there and talk to him,” she mutters to Bruce.

“Lex is a blowhard, but he’s a blowhard with the financial and political capital to back himself up, and I’m concerned about some of the unpublicized projects whose provenance I have traced to LexCorp subsidiaries.” Bruce’s voice is low and for her ears only.

She huffs out a breath. “I get why _you_ have to talk to him then. I don’t get why I do.”

“I need you to distract him. I don’t want him looking too closely into the brain injury.”

She raises an eyebrow. If he’s that concerned about his Brucie facade, she’ll have to ratchet up her estimation of Lex Luthor’s perceptiveness. “Fine. Do you need me to play nice?”

He smiles vapidly, pats her hand where it’s resting in the crook of his elbow as he maneuvers them forward, closer to the Metropolis billionaire. “Just be yourself, Nica, darling,” he says, loud enough to be heard. “I’m sure he’ll love you. Lexy! Lexy!”

Heads turn, and the number of shocked gazes tells Veronica a lot about what Lex Luthor allows from his sycophants. Then she turns and focuses on the man himself. He’s well-built, though his suit is cut to downplay just how muscular he is. The baldness, rather than diminishing from his aura, only seems to add to the powerful confidence he exudes.

His face shows a flash of rage for a split second, and then he is all sharp smiles and welcoming gestures. “Bruce Wayne!” he says jovially. “So glad you could make it to our fine city!”

“Well, it’s not too far to hop for a party,” Brucie says grinning. “Plus I promised to show my new little sister the sights. Have you met Nica?”

“No, I have not,” Luthor says. His smile is predatory and full of teeth. Veronica is vaguely reminded of Aaron Echolls. She suppresses a shudder as the billionaire takes her hand, bows over it, and presses hot, wet lips to the back of it. “Lex Luthor. Enchanted to meet you. The photos I’ve seen of you simply do not do you justice.”

“Thank you,” she says, lips twisting into a smirk. “Although if you’re talking about the photos from when Bruce and I first arrived in the US, the bar is set pretty low.”

He chuckles. “You’re too modest.” His voice is rings with what she’s sure he imagines is an approximation of warmth. “Beauty and humility too—Brucie, where _do_ you find them?”

Bruce shrugs, waves a hand with extra carelessness. “Oh, you know, around.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “By ‘around’ he means terrorist dungeons. Everyone knows they’re the best place to pick up chicks.”

Luthor throws his head back and lets out a full on belly laugh. “Bruce, Bruce, you must let me borrow your most charming companion.”

Bruce pouts. “Nope. No way. If I misplace her, Alfred will kill me.”

“And how _is_ Mr. Pennyworth these days?” Luthor asks, still smiling. But he darts a glance toward his bodyguard, one Mercy Graves, according to Bruce’s files. The woman nods subtly, then turns and disappears into the crowd. “Still managing your life for you?”

The Gotham billionaire shrugs and grins unrepentantly. “If he doesn’t do it, who will, right?”

“Lex, darling, aren’t you going to introduce me to your companions?” a voice purrs from behind Veronica. She’d known someone was approaching, but the woman, a tall redhead whose cheekbones could be used to cut stone, oozes falseness and sex like some sort of uber-corny Bond girl. Veronica can tell there is no way the woman’s dark red hair or torpedo-like breasts are natural; the only thing real about her is her somewhat heavy Russian accent. St. Petersburg, she thinks. A Bratva connection?

“Oh, but certainly,” Luthor says, smiling indulgently. “Zoya, Bruce Wayne and Veronica Mars. Bruce, Veronica—may I call you Veronica?—this is Zoya Kozlova, a friend of mine who’s visiting from New York.”

“Of course I know who you are!” the redhead exclaims breathily. “I read all about your rescue in the papers! Mr. Wayne, I can only imagine the ordeal you must have suffered. I had hoped one day to perhaps meet you and offer what comfort I could in person, after having been so moved by your story.”

“Oh?” Veronica rolls her eyes as Brucie leers at the woman. His smile is carnal as he says, “Perhaps you’d like to show me what kind of comfort you have in mind.”

When Mercy appears out of the crowd to once more stand in Luthor’s shadow, Veronica’s suspicions about the Russian woman’s timing is confirmed. She’s also very intrigued as to why the Metropolis billionaire wants to get her alone. So she sighs and quirks a half-smile at the man she loves like a brother. “Really, Bruce?”

“Nica,” he says, smiling broadly. “I’m going to go with Ms. Chloe here—”

“Zoya,” the redhead corrects him, pouting.

“I’m going to go with Ms. Zoya here,” he says obediently. “And I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

She rolls her eyes, holds a hand out. “Valet stub.”

“Nica,” he whines.

“I know you, Brue. Keys the Lambo because you are _not_ ditching me in a strange city to bump uglies with some redhead you just met like two seconds ago.”

He pouts, his expression hurt. “I’d never ditch you, Nica.” But he pulls the stub out of his pocket and hands it to her.

She smiles fondly as she tucks the stub into her clutch. “Then consider this insurance. And remember, no glove, no love.”

Luthor is chuckling as she turns back to him, not bothering to watch Bruce walk away with his newfound companion. “You handle him well. I have heard he can be… difficult.”

She snorts. “You mean you’ve read the tabloids and heard about the shenanigans he got himself into while I was in California. I understand it was strongly suggested he bring me as his date tonight.”

The Metropolis billionaire smiles. “I see you’re as perceptive as advertised. And I also see why some of the East Coast bluebloods have started calling you the Brucie Whisperer.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “The old biddies just need to grow themselves some gumption. Bruce isn’t that bad.”

Luthor’s eyebrows shoot up. “So he didn’t go swimming in the governor’s lily pond with a couple of nude supermodels?”

She grimaces. “Okay, Mr. Luthor. Change of topic. What do you want from me?”

“Why, nothing but the pleasure of your company, of course.”

“Cut the bullcrap, Luthor,” she says, glaring. “You didn’t get your bodyguard to bring over Miss Bottled Sex and Red Hair Dye to seduce Bruce away just to make small talk.”

The man just grins at her. “You are as forthright as rumored, Ms. Mars. I like that in a woman.”

“Then you’re gonna love me. What do you want, Luthor?”

He takes her elbow and ushers her out toward the balcony. Curious, she lets him escort her through the glass doors and into the chill night. She doesn’t comment on the fact that Mercy Graves follows not five paces behind them.

“You’re right in that I want something from you, Ms. Mars,” Luthor says once they’re outside.

“Shocker,” she deadpans.

He laughs. “Yes, yes, I do like you.”

“Bully for you. Get to the point.”

Still chuckling, he shakes his head. “I want to hire you.”

Huh. She wasn’t expecting that. “To do what?”

“I want to hire you to uncover Superman’s secret identity.”


	27. Sparkles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan talks to Lilly at the car wash that fateful day.

Logan watched Lilly and Veronica hamming it up at the pep squad car wash. They were joking and laughing in a way he hadn’t seen them do since Duncan decided to pretend Veronica didn’t exist anymore. Within the safety of his Xterra, he sneered at the thought of his best friend. That was _not_ the way to break up with someone. Then he snorted. It wasn’t like he had done any better, kissing a friend of his sometimes-girlfriend’s in the hope that it would get back to her. Of course, _that_ had blown up in his face as well.

Not that Lilly looked particularly heartbroken. She wiggled her butt playfully as she bent to soak her sponge in sudsy water. He couldn’t hear them, but he could tell she and Veronica and a few of the other girls were singing, too.

She looked so _happy_. Without him.

And that was when Logan knew, really knew, that it was over between them. That it probably had been for longer than he’d care to test or acknowledge. He sat for a while wondering what to do now. It was over, but it didn’t feel quite finished.

Clichéd as it might sound, he needed closure.

The question was, how was he to achieve it? He thought about writing her a letter, sneaking it into her car and leaving it along with a parting gift of the shot glass he’d brought from Mexico with him to add to her collection. But in the end he dismissed the idea as being way too Shakespearean—with his luck, that letter would get him into trouble of comedic or tragic proportions—and decided to just man up and talk to her.

So he waited until the event was winding down. Lilly decided to leave early, so Logan girded up his gumption and got out of his Xterra. She saw him right away, of course, and her mouth formed into a little moue of annoyance. He felt himself stiffening up in anger, but tamped down on it viciously. If they were going to emerge from this with their friendship intact, he needed to hold on to his temper for as long as he could.

“What do you want, Logan?”

“To talk,” he said simply. “Just to talk, Lilly. I think we need to clear the air.”

“I think we need to clear our histories—of each other.”

He sighed. “Lilly, I’d like for us to stay friends.” At her raised eyebrow, he flushed a bit. “Or at least friendly enough that we don’t wind up making Duncan and Veronica choose sides.”

She huffed out an annoyed breath. “As if they wouldn’t choose me!”

He smirked. “Be that as it may, it’s not fair to them to put them in that position.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

He got into her car and they actually did end up talking, even if it was stilted and awkward at first. Eventually, they reached a kind of truce. Logan suspected it had more to do with Duncan and Veronica than it did with Lilly’s own preferences. For one thing, he knew how long Lilly could hold a grudge from when he was shopping around for a new laptop. Still, he decided to apologize for his behavior.

Lilly shrugged. “It wasn’t really about me. Or, well, I guess you wanted to show me up. But it’s fine. I was kind of expecting it. Didn’t expect you to take quite so long.”

“How did you figure that out?”

“Your eyes used to turn into confetti and sparkles whenever we met up,” she said. “I haven’t seen that sparkle in a while. Plus, we were always fighting. I’d be a much better friend than I am a girlfriend.”

“Same,” Logan said. “Although I’d be a much better _friend_ than I am a _boyfriend_. To you, at least.”

She grinned triumphantly. “Of course you would, lover.”

“Just that I recently saw those sparkles in those chocolate eyes of yours when you looked at a certain best friend of mine.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re imagining things. There are no sparkles.”

She laughed. “Keep thinking that, Logan Echolls, and you will get absolutely nowhere. Embrace the schmoop monster that is you. And let me help you woo Veronica Mars.”

“I’m not even sure I want to do this. I suspect dating from within the friend pool may make things unnecessarily complicated.”

“Oh you will. You’ll do anything I tell you if it means you get to go to prom with Veronica Mars.”

He opened his mouth to retort, shut it again.

Lilly shot him a sharp smile full of teeth, her eyes narrow and perceptive. “Well,” she said, “I think you two would be perfect for each other.”

He frowned. “What makes you say that?”

She smiled, a full-on grin. “You know what I was telling you about the sparkles?”

"Uh huh."

“She’s got them too.”


	28. Medication (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman is high on pain meds. Veronica should definitely not gain any enjoyment from it. But, well, it’s Batman. And she’s Veronica. How could she not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment (the third I’ve planned, in fact). I don’t think you need to have read anything from it to read this ficlet, but do let me know if it leaves you stumped, as it references some things that happened in “[Veronica Mars and the Missing Prince of Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795003).”
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She is a pretty famous private investigator; she lives in Gotham for the most part, but comes home to Neptune fairly often. She also moonlights as a vigilante colleague of Batman’s.

She should feel really bad that her best friend, shield buddy, and honorary brother came as close to dying last night as she’s ever seen him do. Really, she should. Plus, there’s the knowledge that he’s so beat up because the area of the docks the Batman was monitoring mafia activities in pretty much blew up.

But Bruce Wayne is just so _precious_ when he’s doped up on pain meds.

“Nicanic, what’re you doing?” he slurs as Alfred checks his IV.

Veronica rolls her eyes at the butler. “Same thing I was doing when you asked me five minutes ago, Brue.”

“Whassat?”

“Looking into your explosion. The Maronis have pissed off more than one crime syndicate lately, if your intel is solid.”

He scowls. “Whatchamean, if my intel’s solid? I’m the goddamn Batman!”

She grins. “Yes, you are,” she reassures him. “You are vengeance, you are the night, and all that jazz. I didn’t mean to insult your investigatory skills, detective.” She calls him by the name Ra’s al Ghul, head of the League of Assassins, has given him.

“Fucking right, you didn’t, _quth saghiruh_.” He reciprocates with the Demon Head’s name for Veronica, which is Arabic for _kitten_. “Whatchagot?”

“Pretty sure it’s either the Irish clans looking to infringe on the Italians or Falcone making sure they don’t get too big for their britches.”

“Evidence?”

She glances over, sees the glazed look in his eyes. “I’ll send you a report.”

“’Smy Nica,” he says proudly.

“You just appreciate that I’m a mean hand at paperwork.”

“And you love me.”

She smirks. “Do I?”

He nods, grinning. “Do too. Who else is gonna tell me I’m full of shit?”

She starts ticking names off her fingers. “Alfred. Mac. Lucius. Clark. Anybody who’s ever met you as Brucie fucking Wayne.”

He laughs, then grimaces. “Ow, Nica. Hurts to laugh.”

“Don’t, then.”

“But you’re so funny.” He’s smiling. “It’s your super power.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Veronica deadpans. “If I were to put on a comedy show, I’d be richer than you in no time.”

“If you invited a couple of guys like Ra’s, you could be.”

“Just the idea of there being ‘a couple of guys like Ra’s’ fucking terrifies me, Brue.”

He nods. “Fair point. But you could handle them. Got th’ freaking Demon Head wrapped around your finger for two years.”

She grimaces. “God knows why.”

“Pluck.”

“What?”

“Pluck. ‘S what you got. Y’r plucky.” He grins foolishly at the word. “Plucky clucky kitty cat. Don’t take no bullshit from megalomaniacs.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re a poet, you didn’t even know it.”

He’s nodding, seemingly delighted by her recognition. “I am. ‘S my jam. I’m a rhyming man. ‘Cause I can.”

She facepalms. “Ohmigod, you are _so_ lucky Mac isn’t here to record this.”

He giggles a little, reaches for her hand. “I like it when it’s just us. We should make it a tradition. For whenever we’re in a ‘splosion.”

“I very much hope, sir, that explosions will not become such commonplace occurrences that you must form traditions around them.”

Bruce and Veronica look up to see Alfred at the door. Bruce grins. “No promises, Alfie.”

Veronica shrugs. “What can I say? It’s not my first bombing either.”

“Most would take that fact as reason to reassess their lifestyles,” the butler says smartly. Veronica imagines his eyes must be burning from the need to roll.

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, Alfie,” she says as she watches him fiddle with the doses on Bruce’s pain medication, “but neither of us is anything like ‘most people.’”

“I have, dear child,” he says, and there’s a warmth in his tone though his face looks stoic. “Sadly, I’ve resigned myself to associating with danger mongers.”

Bruce meets her eye and makes a winding gesture around his pinky finger. Unrestrained by butler training, Veronica sticks out her tongue and rolls her eyes at him.

“Now, I do believe it’s time Master Bruce got some rest.”

“’M not tired, Alfred,” Bruce says, pouting. Then he spoils it by yawning. Veronica smirks.

“If you say so, sir.”

“I’ll stay with him, Alfie,” Veronica says. “I can just work on my laptop and keep an eye on him.”

Bruce frowns. “’M not a sick child.”

“No,” she agrees. “You’re a grown man. That’s why it’s worse.”

“If y’r gonna stay, make yourself useful.”

“As I’ve taken over the investigation of your little arms deal and the way it—haha—blew up in the Maronis’ faces, it could be argued that I’m doing exactly that.”

He flaps a lazy hand at her. “Sing for me.”

She startles at that. “What?”

His voice deepens, takes on a melodic, bluesy quality. “What I want from you is… your voice.”

She gapes. “Did you legit just quote _The Little Mermaid_ at me?”

He nods, though his eyes are drooping. “You poor unfortunate soul.”

She picks her jaw up the floor. “I’m not going to sing _The Little Mermaid_ at you, Brue.”

He flaps his hand at her. Flops it, really. “Sing whatever.”

She stares at him for a moment, then thinks about the previous night. The way she’d all but crashed his fancypants car getting him to the cave and Alfred. How they’d had to call in Dr. Leslie Thompkins, who’d looked both enraged and despairing at the sight of what their “foolish” crusade had wrought them.

The crimson that had stained her hands and clothing.

The way his blood pressure had dropped until they’d managed to stabilize him.

She sighs and scoots over, placing a hand on his head, petting his messy black hair. His eyes are already closed, and it makes it easier for her to open her mouth and sing softly.

Since he quoted a Disney movie at her, she smirks a little and chooses another one. “A dream is a wish your heart makes…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a few more before I can wrap up Promptober, which I'll post as soon as I can (although I'm in a place where the internet sucks for the next several days).


	29. Fright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After clearing the air between them and officially breaking up, Lilly and Logan team up to cheer Veronica up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place directly after the ficlet in for [prompt number 27 (“Sparkles”)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38591246) as apparently the characters weren’t done with me yet. Also, I noticed Lymelight asked for a followup, and happily things worked out. So this one’s for you!

Logan and Lilly had talked out their breakup, argued good-naturedly about who got whom in the divorce (poor Duncan; they both tried to fob him off on each other in order to lay claim to Veronica as their Fab Four alimony friend), and lapsed into companionable silence when it happened.

There was a loud bang as something hit the driver’s side door, followed by a blood-curdling scream and somebody’s face pressed up against the window. Lilly jumped and shrieked while Logan gave a (hopefully) manly yell. Then they stared at each other in silence as giggles could be heard from outside. Then Lilly grinned, peeked out the window, then threw open her door.

“Veronica Mars!” she shouted. “You gave me and Logan the fright of our lives!”

Logan leaned over the handbrake and center console enough to see the tiny blond sitting on the ground, still giggling. “L-Lilly K-kane,” Veronica gasped, still laughing, “you sh-should have seen your f-face! And that scream!”

Lilly crossed her arms in front of her body and adopted a pouty expression, but Logan had seen the quirk of her mouth, and he knew she was more amused than annoyed, no matter how she schooled her face. “Not funny, Veronica.”

Veronica giggled again, then unsteadily got to her feet. Lilly stepped forward to help her up. “It was kind of funny, Lil,” she said.

Logan decided it was time to put his two cents’ worth in, coming around the car to smirk at them. “It was.”

Lilly scrunched up her nose. “Oh shut up,” she said, chuckling. “Like I didn’t hear that girly little yelp you let out when she did it.”

Logan pulled himself to his full height and did his best to look affronted. “Excuse you, I expressed my surprise and concern in a very manly fashion.”

This had both blonds giggling as he scowled. “Whatever you say, Lo,” Veronica said, smiling at him. He couldn’t help smiling back.

“Lilly was clearly the loser in this scenario, though,” he said.

Veronica nodded soberly. “Absolutely.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Lilly teased them. “Logan and I break up for the last time, and suddenly you both are ganging up on me.”

The other blond looked stricken at her words. “You broke up? But—” She glanced at Logan, then shifts her gaze back to Lilly, and licks her lips. “But you’re Logan and Lilly. You’re supposed to be together forever.”

Lilly frowned. “Veronica Mars, how dare you? Don’t you know the hotness that is me is way too much for one boy—or even one man—to handle?”

But Veronica was not amused. “What’s going on, guys?”

“We simply decided we would be better off as friendly exes than combative ones,” Logan said, waving an airy hand. “As we didn’t think you would agree to being split in two King Solomon style as part of the divorce.”

Lilly wrinkled her nose. “I tried to give him the Donut, but no go.”

At the mention of her somewhat-ex, Veronica’s mouth tightened and her demeanor drooped visibly.

“He’s still my best friend, but he’s been dickier than Dick in how he’s been treating you,” Logan told her gently.

A ghost of a smile played at her mouth, but then the edges tugged downward again. “Thanks, Lo. I just wish he’d talk to me. Heck, I just wish he’d actually come and break up with me instead of making me wonder if he got body snatched and just doesn’t remember who I am. It’s driving me nuts that I don’t know what went wrong.”

Something flickered in Lilly’s expression. Logan’s eyes sharpened on her face. “You know something.”

“Me?” Her eyes widened. But they’d been friends too long for Logan and Veronica not to spot the lie. Her shoulders slumped. “I… kind of do? But I’m not allowed to tell.”

“Is this the ‘good’ secret you were teasing me about earlier?” There was anger threading Veronica’s voice, and Logan felt it was 110 percent deserved, if what she was saying was true.

Lilly’s eyes darted to Logan’s face, then back to Veronica. “No, no, Ronica, that’s something else entirely,” she said. “Please believe me.”

Logan sighed. “It’s probably got something to do with whoever she was seeing on the side.” He was surprised to note that while the guilt on her face stung his pride, it didn’t wrench his heart as it might have even a couple weeks back.

Lilly bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

He shrugged. “Not like I didn’t already know about it, even if I still don’t know who it is. Not like I didn’t kiss Yolanda.” He thought back to their earlier conversation. “Veronica. Hey, Veronica.” Sh was staring into space, but her gaze lifted to meet his. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you over telling Lilly. I wasn’t really mad at you. More, at myself.”

She smiled faintly. “Thanks, Lo.” She frowned at Lilly. “If it had been Lilly, I would’ve told you.”

Lilly pouted. “Good thing I didn’t tell you what my secret was then, Ronica. I thought I was your best friend!”

“You’re both my best friends,” Veronica said.

“Damn straight.” Logan smiled down at her. “So how about some ice cream, BFF? My treat. Lilly can even come, in the spirit of amicable ex-ing.”

“While I would normally love to accompany the two of you dorktopuses to lend you some fabulousness,” Lilly said teasingly, “I have a date to get to.”

And there was that sting again, but Logan was surprised to note it was a mild one. He focused on Veronica instead. “You okay with it just being the two of us? I, uh, can take you home afterward. My old man’s home from LA, and you know me. Anything to stay out of the house.”

Veronica tilted her head. “Amy’s?”

Logan clutched his chest dramatically. “What do you take me for? Some kind of plebeian? Of course, Amy’s!”

She laughed. “You really are a dork. But okay!”

“Guess that’s my cue to leave,” Lilly said, smiling at them both as she climbed back into the driver’s seat of her SUV. “Logan, you better treat my Ronica right, or the Lilly-harpy that was your girlfriend will be nothing compared to my vengeful self.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “It’s just ice cream, Lil. What trouble could we actually get into with ice cream?”

Lilly sighed. “Oh, sweet Ronica, I have so much to teach you.” She checks the time on her dashboard clock. “But not now. Call me later, or drop by the house instead of going home. Donut pretty much just stays in his room and grows mold anyway, so you won’t have to see him.”

Veronica chewed at her lip. “I’ll think about it, Lil.”

“That’s all I ask,” Lilly said. “I miss you, and I’m not about to let stupid Donut get between us.” There was a wealth of love and kindness in Lilly’s face that Logan had never seen directed at him. Something about the way she loved Veronica only served to underscore the thought that perhaps Lilly never really loved him at all. Logan waited for the stab to his heart that this realization brought and was surprised when it didn’t come.

“Hos before bros, yo!” Veronica was telling Lilly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Though there was still a bit of strain in her voice, he could tell there was also quite a bit of affection and amusement.

“Always, Ronica. Always.” Lilly started the car, grinning at them through the open window. “Well, I’ve got to go, _friends_. Enjoy your ice cream! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Logan snorted. “Are there things you wouldn’t do?”

“Not if I have any say about it!” With a jaunty wave and a honk of her horn, she pulled out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

Veronica gazed after the SUV, shaking her head. “She’s so going to get a ticket on the way to wherever she’s going. If not pulled over outright.”

Logan smirked. “Tell me something I don’t know. You ready? My car’s over here.” He inclines his head in the direction of the Xterra.

“Sure!” Veronica said, smiling.

Logan offered her his arm gallantly. “Milady, your chariot awaits.”

“Why thank you, sir knight. We had best get going in case it turns into Big Bird at sundown.”

He let a pained expression shape his features. “No insulting my baby where she can hear.”

Veronica laughed. “Definitely a dork,” she said, shaking her head. “And I can pay my own way at Amy’s okay?”

Logan shook his head. “Nuh uh, no can do. My treat. Lilly’s orders, and besides, it’s my jackass of a friend who can’t man up enough to have a conversation with you.”

She grimaced. “So glad I can monetize on my pain through freebies, then.”

“Hey,” he said softly. “The truth is, I just told my on-again-off-again girlfriend it was over for good. I could use the company. How about we make a pact not to talk about either of our disastrous love lives for the rest of the afternoon? I’ll even get you a triple scoop, as payment for your consideration and for all the work you put into washing cars today.”

She blew out a breath. “Fine. And, speaking of which, you should’ve just come in and had your car washed of your road trip dirt instead of sitting in your car parked across the street like a serial killer.”

He helped her into the car—she was really short and could use the boost into the front passenger seat—and ducked his head sheepishly at her words. “You spotted me? And how did you know about Mexico?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Logan, your banana mobile isn’t exactly stealthy. And _everybody_ knew you were going to Mexico this weekend with the Casablancas brothers. Where are they, by the way?”

“Uh, still there, probably. I came back early.”

“And how’s that working out for you?”

“Surprisingly, not as bad as it could’ve been.” He paused, considering. “I feel like I deserve that ice cream almost as much as you do, though.”

She grins. “Onward, then, good sir!”

“To quote _The Princess Bride_ , ‘as you wish.’”


	30. Trick (Justice League XO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman has been captured by the Joker. It’s up to his small snarky partner to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing the second installment of my [Veronica Mars x Justice League](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1116048) crossover series, so here’s another preview from a future installment (the third I’ve planned, in fact). I don’t think you need to have read anything from it to read this ficlet, but do let me know if it leaves you stumped. 
> 
> Here’s what you need to know: Veronica’s been trained by the League of Assassins. She is a pretty famous private investigator; she lives in Gotham for the most part and is completing her degree at Gotham University. She also moonlights as Vesper, a vigilante colleague of Batman’s.

Batman hangs like a fish on a hook over a vat of acid. Idly he wonders at the inefficiency of the clown’s method of killing. He resists the urge to shake his head over the Joker’s love of delivering speeches instead of getting on with murder already. He does, however, indulge in an eye roll from behind the white lenses of his cowl.

“You know, Batsy, I really do like you.” The purple-clad villain pauses, clearly waiting for Batman to reply. As if he would give the madman the satisfaction.

“Really, you’re almost as fun as that lovely friend of yours. Vesper, I think she’s called?” The clown blinks flirtatiously at the cowled vigilante, grinning widely.

The Bat remains silent. It turns the Joker’s grin upside down.

“Aww, fine, Batsy. Be that way. But you and I both know that despite your atrociously boring wardrobe choices, you’re a man after my own heart. A tricksy, tricksy individual. ” The clown cackles maniacally. His thugs join him, the obligatory laughter ringing sharp and false.

“Shut up! Shut up!” the Joker shrieks at his minions. “Don’t pretend you get the joke! It’s between my Batsy and me!”

_B, I_ _’m two minutes out. Hold on._

He’s surprised. He knows Veronica is hip deep in final requirements for her semester at Gotham University. “I’ve got it,” he murmurs, loud enough to be caught on comm but softly, so the Joker won’t hear.

_Don_ _’t be ridiculous. Although why I thought you might wise up and arrange for tech-and-tac support when you went out tonight, given Umbra is out of town, I have no idea._

“Hnn.” When Bruce Wayne had conceived of his mission, he had imagined it taking him on a lonely path. That notion had quickly disappeared under the persistence of Alfred Pennyworth, Veronica Mars, Mac Mackenzie, and the smattering of other people who’d camped out at the gates of his life, refusing to leave until he let them in.

“What’s that, Batsy?” The Joker cups one gloved hand around an ear. “Tired of just hanging around?”

He starts cackling again at his own joke. This time, his thugs don’t laugh along with him. A mistake, as the clown stops laughing to scowl at them. “What? You don’t think I’m funny?” He pulls his gun and shoots the closest minion between the eyes. The sound of the shot echoes through the warehouse, jolting everyone but the Bat and the clown into forced laughter.

_I_ _’m here, B. Got in through an air vent with roof access. I’m going to grapple down and catch you on the upswing, push you toward the catwalk behind you. Be ready._

Batman has already loosened the ropes around his wrists; he’s now actually holding on to the hook above his head rather than dangling from it. “Do it.”

There’s a crash and the familiar sound of a grapple gun firing, then a black-clad figure is swinging toward him. She half-crashes into him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lets her momentum propel them both toward the catwalk. He lets go at precisely the right moment, lands lithely on his feet, and helps steady her as she slides down his side to stand on the catwalk as well.

The Joker is clapping his hands delightedly. “Vespy, Vespy, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he singsongs. “That was a _spectacular_ entrance, darling!”

“Thanks, Jokey,” Vesper calls out. “Always good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

Batman scowls. He loves Veronica Mars like a sister, but the woman does _not_ know how to keep her snark in check. Even around super villains. _Especially_ around super villains. He resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache starting between his eyes. He’s not entirely sure if it’s caused by the noxious fumes from the acid or his partner’s tendency to mouth off to murderers.

“I always appreciate your efforts to entertain, Vespy,” the Joker declares.

“I would say the same, dude, but really, Joker? An acid vat?”

The clown frowns. “What’s wrong with it? I thought it was suitably dramatic for the caped killjoy here.”

Vesper shakes her head, then she and Batman jump down to confront Joker. She walks toward the clown while Batman neutralizes the threat from the remaining thugs, knocking them out and tying them up. The Joker doesn’t notice, his eyes fixated on Vesper’s face, for all he can’t make out her features through the mask. “I’m disappointed in you, Jokes. I thought you had more imagination than this.”

The man’s shoulders slump. “Really? I thought for sure it’d be a bloody good show.”

“Really,” Vesper says nodding. “I think you should give yourself some time to think, Jokes.”

He frowns. “Can’t though. Got to get the Bat out of my way, maybe rob a few banks so I can pay my minions here.”

“I could put in a good word for you, get you solitary in Arkham,” Vesper offers. “But you’d have to come tonight, and quietly. You don’t want Batman telling them about how you tried to kill him like a B-movie villain, do you?”

“Nooooo,” the Joker says, shaking his head frantically. “I’d be ruined!”

“Shhh,” Veronica says, stepping close and laying a hand on one padded purple shoulder. “Shhh. Don’t worry. Batman won’t tell anyone. Will you, Bat?”

Batman can tell she’s biting back a grin. He himself barely keeps himself from grinding his teeth. “No,” he growls.

“See? Nobody has to know.”

“Okay,” the Joker says. “Okay.” He straightens, grins. “Thanks, Vespy. I’m ready to go back to Arkham now.”

Vesper gently turns him, and he follows her directions eagerly, even putting his hands together behind his back so she can more easily put the handcuffs on him.

“Unbelievable,” Batman mutters under his breath.

“Oh, Batsy!” Joker sings out. “Don’t think this is the last you’ll be seeing of me! I’ll be back, and I’ll come up with an even funnier way to get rid of you! Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Vesper,” Batman says, nodding at her. Then he vanishes into the shadows, though he stays close enough to watch the scenes.

The Joker is making a pouty face. “Oh,” he coos sadly. “Leaving so soon?”

“Sorry, Jokes. Y’know crime never takes a break, so neither can I.”

The Joker chuckles at that. “Oh, Vespy, you give the _best_ one-liners.”

“Thanks, Jokes,” Vesper says. “Now, remember, be good ‘til the cops get here. Otherwise I’ll hear about it, and you can say bye-bye to solitary when you get to Arkham.”

“I promise I’ll be good, Vespy,” the clown says. “Just for you, just for you.”

“All right. See ya around, Jokes.”

And Vesper too vanishes into the shadows. Fucking finally. Batman does pinch the space between his eyebrows. Goddamn it. What is he supposed to do about Veronica freaking Mars?


	31. Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica puts Logan on the spot, and he sets her up in turn. Or, Logan, Veronica, and karaoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow up to [Prompt 19, “I Can’t Do This.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38320463) That was written from Logan’s POV, and this one’s from Veronica’s.

_“…But I won’t do that.”_

“Ladies and gentlemen! RuLo!” There is thunderous applause in response to the announcer’s words, although Veronica overhears one of the karaoke bar patrons muttering that the reason people are applauding is they’re glad the dueting couple is leaving the stage. “Wasn’t that a treat?”

Veronica smirks. It so, so, so was. She hadn’t expected Logan to agree when Ruby Jetson had specified what she wanted in exchange for information. Up until the moment Logan lifted the mic and started singing, she had been expecting him to back out. But he’d powered—or perhaps the right word is warbled—through the performance.

By the end of it, Veronica knows three things.

She is very grateful smartphones come with cameras.

This video is going to be one of her most treasured possessions.

And she is going to have so much fun repaying Logan for this favor.

Logan looks her right in the eye before stepping off the stage, and she sees him lean down to speak with the announcer. What’s he up to? She sees him pass the host some cash.

“Well, ladies and gents, that was gonna be our last number for the evening, but we’ve got a surprise addition. Veronica Mars, come on up here!”

Logan is smiling at her with a feigned look of innocence on her face. Oh, so payback starts right now. Well, Veronica muses, it’s not the first time she’s been volunteered for karaoke without her knowledge.

And Logan doesn’t know she was reigning champ of karaoke among the friends she made in Stanford.

So she smiles confidently in the face of Logan’s smugness and has the pleasure of watching the smirk fade from his face. She raises an eyebrow from him as she strolls over to the announcer (who apparently doubles as the karaoke tech) and tells him what song she’d like to sing.

The announcer raises his eyebrows. “That’s not the easiest song to sing.” She can tell he’s a little sorry for taking the bribe, but not enough to let her off the hook. “I could recommend a couple of easier ones that’ll make you look good.”

She smiles. It’s sharp and full of teeth. “My boyfriend thinks he can put me on the spot because I made him sing in public,” she tells him. “I’m gonna show him how it’s done.”

He grins back at her. “You go, girl.”

She nods. “I’ll cue you.”

She hops on the stage, grabs the mic. Listens as the announcer gives her another intro.

“I hope you’ll bear with me,” she tells the crowd with a grin. “A friend of mine thought he’d put me on the spot, so I didn’t think I’d be singing tonight.” She nods at the announcer, and he starts the music. As the opening chords start playing, she adds, “But I’m gonna have a little fun, and offer a little public service reminder to the guy who got me up here: you mess with the bull, you get the horns.”

Then it’s her cue.

_“Guess this means I’m sorry_   
_I’m standing standing at your door_   
_Guess this means I take back all I said before_   
_Like how much I wanted anyone but you_   
_Said I’d never come back, but here I am again_

_Cause we belong together now, yeah_   
_Forever united here somehow, yeah_   
_You got a piece of me_   
_And honestly_   
_My life would suck without you…”_

She plays things up for the audience, getting into the beat, belting out every chorus. By the time the song is done, her face is flushed, her eyes are sparkling, and everyone in the bar is applauding.

“Veronica Mars, closing out the night in style!” the announcer yells, to the cheers of the audience. Veronica executes a little bow, and hops off the stage.

Straight into Logan’s arms, and she has a moment to see bright brown eyes even in the dim light of the bar before she’s hauled up and his lips are on hers.

“Guess that didn’t go as you thought it would,” she says breathlessly when they break apart.

He chuckles. “Bobcat, that was…” He shakes his head. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She grins. “At karaoke? You bet your ass. But don’t think I don’t know I owe you so many favors for what you did tonight.”

He smirks at her. “I wasn’t gonna bring it up just yet, but yes. So many.”

She lets out a delighted laugh, pulls him closer for another kiss. “Let me find Ruby, get the info I need, then we can head home and I can start paying up.”

Those chocolate eyes heat and darken. “You’ve got a deal,” he says roughly. “I’ll deal with the tab and meet you outside.”

She nods, biting her lip because the look on his face has lust tightening her belly. “Five minutes, ten tops.”

She starts to head out to find Ruby so she can get the work part of her evening done and move straight into the play portion of the program. But his hand at her wrist stops her. “Hey, Veronica?”

“Yeah?”

“My life would suck without you too.”

She grins. “Damn straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics for the song Veronica sings amended from Kelly Clarkson’s “My Life Would Suck Without You." Logan’s song is “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)” by Meat Loaf. 
> 
> Also, aaaaaaaaahhhhhh! Promptober Fest 2018 is finally done! I got through 31 prompts and wrote over 35,000 words for it. Haha! Thank you, [AdorkableAuthor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154261/chapters/38320463), for organizing this!


End file.
